30 Day OTP Challenge? Challenge Accepted
by PandoraTheFox
Summary: 30 Day OTP Challenge centering around Destiel. Need I say more?
1. My Hand Was Cold

**Day 01: **Holding Hands

**Title: **My Hand Was Cold

**Summary:** Dean doesn't like pointless physical affection, but he'd do anything to make his angel smile.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the popular television show Supernatural nor its badass characters. If I did, I would've made Destiel canon a _long _time ago.

**Notes: **This oneshot is ideally set in season five.

* * *

It was a well-known fact that Dean Winchester was not one for pointless physical affection. It just wasn't how he was raised—honestly, the only physical touches he received from his father was the occasional pat on the back or the rare squeeze of the shoulder—and despite how much he loved his little brother, he could count on one hand how many times he actually _initiated_ a hug with him. He didn't really see the purpose of it; why would you want to touch another person without any promise of future sex or death? It seemed useless in Dean's mind, so he tried to dodge physical contact at every chance he received (though his success rate wasn't very high since Sam—the personification of Chick Flick Moments—was always around being emo and shit).

But then there was Cas, the angsty fallen angel who had just discovered the comfort that physical affection brought, and Dean didn't really have a chance to deny him much of anything. Though that didn't mean he wouldn't fight tooth and nail against it before gruffly giving in.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, Dean could admit it was his own damn fault. He'd made his fatal mistake right after Castiel—not for the first time—risked his own ass to save Dean's.

"Dammit, Cas," He growled as he crouched down and tried to help the weak, stumbling angel to his feet, masking his concern with anger, "What the hell were you thinking? That werewolf would've ripped you to shreds if Sam hadn't had broken out of his ropes!"

"Better me than you." The angel replied gruffly, his face painted in pain as he spoke, causing Dean to sort of freak the fuck out because hey, he was supposed to be an angel and invincible to that kind of shit.

Dean gave him a dark look at his words but decided against scolding his angel literally five minutes after he threw himself in front of a crazed wolf about to rip his heart out. Instead, he just let Castiel lean on him until he could find the strength to walk on his own. With a worried glance at Cas, Sam announced that he was going outside to burn the body. Dean waved him off in dismissal and said they'd be out in a minute, keeping his gaze locked on the bruised and bloody angel in his hold as he spoke to his brother.

After Sam left, Castiel reached a shaking hand down to his gaping chest wound, looking at his blood-stained finger with puzzlement and sorrow.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his action, "What, never bled before?"

"Not for this long," He said softly, a gleam in his eye that Dean could only identify as sadness, "My healing powers...they're weakening."

Dean sighed and glanced down at the concrete floor, too ashamed of himself to look the angel in the eye as he said quietly, "Cas, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you into this screwed up mess—"

"The apocalypse was inevitable, Dean," Castiel told him, and Dean could feel those intense, calculating blue eyes boring into the side of his face, "I'm just happy that I am on the right side."

Dean chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced over at his blood soaked chest, silently relieved that the wound was (gradually) healing itself, "You think you can stand up on your own, or do you need me to keep being Bill Withers?"

Castiel shot him a confused look at the reference before adding, "I believe I am capable of supporting my own weight. Thank you for the assistance."

Dean nodded and stepped away, allowing an acceptable distance to form between them. There were still small traces of pain on his chiseled features, but most of his expression held only despair at the discovery of the negative effects of his fall; a fall Dean and his stupid free will philosophy selfishly caused.

Cas seemed so vulnerable in this state—so delicate and breakable like fine china, despite still being a badass motherfucker that nobody wanted to mess with. So really, at the sight of this, Dean couldn't help but feel obligated to offer the only comfort he could think of. With a labored sigh, Dean decided to just bite the bullet and give him a tight, awkward embrace. He heard Cas draw in a sharp breath at the contact as he immediately went rigid, but he didn't move away. Dean let himself linger only a few seconds—inhaling the tantalizing mixture of soap and ozone that made up the natural scent of Cas—before he leaned away, squeezing Castiel's shoulder as he said softly, "Thanks, Cas. Just don't do it again, okay? You're not Iron Man."

Cas only stared at him, confusion and another unreadable emotion brewing on the surface of his trademarked blank, emotionless face. Dean gave him a crooked smile before pulling away altogether and moving towards the warehouse exit, "C'mon. Sam's probably waitin' for us."

When they meet up with Sam, the first thing his brother noticed was the huge blood stain on Dean's once clean shirt. He arched a questioning eyebrow as his gaze switched between Dean and Cas.

His older brother nonchalantly declared in explanation, "I slipped." At Sam's eye roll, he scowled and muttered on his way to the Impala, "Shut up."

And that was when it began.

* * *

Two weeks later, Dean was on the verge of a mental breakdown. It seemed Cas liked the warmth and intimacy that accompanied physical affection a little _too _much since every goddamn moment he spent around them after that, he would somehow find a way to touch Dean. Sometimes it was as subtle as a hand on the crook of his elbow or their shoulders pressed together. Other times, it was just plain _embarrassing_. Like right now, when Castiel had discovered another lead on God and was about to leave the Winchester brothers.

"When will you be back?" Dean asked, ignoring Sam's amused glance at him.

"It could be days, it could be weeks." Cas answered with a shrug before his blue eyes locked with Dean's and he added meaningfully with emphasis, "But I _will _be back."

"Okay," Sam said with an awkward smile, causing Castiel to break his stare to look over at him, "Well, bye Cas."

"Goodbye, Sam." Castiel said with a nod before he looked over to Dean. The eldest Winchester opened his mouth to say his own farewell when Cas suddenly swooped in and wrapped his arms around him. All words died in Dean's throat at the sudden contact, shock and confusion evaporating any thought that had been residing in his brain. The hug was brief but meaningful, ending with a squeeze on Castiel's end before he leaned back and smiled slightly, saying casually, "Call if you need me, Dean." And with a sound of wings, he was gone, leaving Dean flustered and Sam bewildered.

"Did Cas..." Sam cleared his throat, obviously trying to mask his obnoxious (and completely uncalled for, in Dean's opinion) fit of snickers, "Did Cas just _hug_ you?"

Dean could only stare numbly at the spot Cas had once been and stubbornly believe that somehow this was Sam's fault.

* * *

It was a week before they saw Cas again and discovered that the lead he was following had dried up quickly. Throughout his visit, Dean pointedly made sure to stay as far away from Cas as possible, much to the obvious confusion and disgruntlement of the angel. Finally, after two days of avoidance, Castiel caught Dean off guard and made them face this embarrassing situation (or at least Dean though it was embarrassing; especially with all the amused glances Sam had been sending him like a complete _asshole_).

They were sitting on the couch and watching a rerun of Law & Order: SVU. Dean had forgotten his ultimatum to put at least ten feet distance between himself and the angel, and Cas had vindictively took advantage of his rare moment of weakness. As Elliot Stabler slapped some pedophile around like an all around badass, Castiel slid his hand over to rest on Dean's knee. With indignation, the hunter must admit it took him a few minutes to notice the contact, but when he glanced over to spout a lewd comment about Olivia Benson's ass, he discovered his hand and immediately jerked away like he'd been burned.

"What the fuck, Cas?" Dean demanded, "Can you go five seconds without molesting me?"

Castiel gave him a puzzled expression, "What do you mean?"

"You keep touching me." Dean accused with a raised finger.

Cas tilted his head, simply responding, "Yes."

"Well, cut it out." Dean said with annoyance. Utter hurt flooded those ocean irises before it was quickly replaced with faked indifference.

"Very well," Castiel said with pursed lips, his voice strangely cold as he abruptly stood, "I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable." Before Dean could respond, the angel was gone.

Ten minutes later, as Sam and Dean dine on their Chinese takeout food, his brother asked, "Hey, where'd Cas go?"

"No clue." Dean said with a shrug, trying to chase away the guilt that plagued his stomach.

* * *

The next day, Castiel was even colder to him than he'd been when he was still Heaven's bitch, and Dean would rather let a witch hex him than receive another icy glance from the angel. He didn't know why Cas was making a big deal out of this; after all, it wasn't like Dean didn't have reasons for his protest. They weren't _dating_ or anything (despite how often Sam joked), and they'd lasted over a year in their close friendship without any sort of contact between them. But for some reason, Dean's reluctance to display affection for someone he wasn't even allowed to sleep with was making Cas pissy, and _nothing_ was more annoying than a bratty angel. He was rude and pretty much a _major_ asshole, and hey, that was _Dean's_ job. _He_ was supposed to be the dark and brooding one of this team.

Dean tried to convince himself that this was why he suddenly decided to end this whole silent war he was unwillingly participating in and allowed himself to be goddamn affectionate for once.

So as they walked back to the Impala after a pretty close encounter with two shapeshifters, Dean nonchalantly threaded his fingers through Castiel's and squeezed his hand, hoping he would get the message because Dean was damn well not saying it aloud.

And when Sam noticed the touch and gave Dean a shit-eating grin, he rolled his eyes and said flatly, "Shut up, Sammy. My hand was cold." Sam threw up his hands in mock surrender and continued walking, laughing quietly to himself. When Sam's attention was off them, Castiel squeezed his hand back in response with a small smile on his face, and Dean could only reluctantly grin back.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is the first of many to come, and next update will be posted tomorrow. Reviews, follows, and favorites would be beloved and appreciated.**


	2. Men Don't Cuddle

**Day Two: **Cuddling Somewhere

**Title: **Men Don't Cuddle

**Summary: **Men don't cuddle, but they do long-term embrace ("Shut up, Cas. There's a difference.").

**Notes: **Sorry this is so short; tomorrow's will be longer.

* * *

Just because Castiel rebuilt The Righteous Man up by the very atoms of his being, that didn't mean he knew everything about him. Like now, when they'd just came down from their high after their first time making love (though Cas had promised never to refer to it as that since it made Dean flush and gruffly tell him that it was called "fucking" and nothing else), Dean curled up on Castiel chest and closed his eyes, the steady beat of Castiel's borrowed heart gradually lulling him to sleep.

"Huh." Castiel said, staring down at him as the man opened his eyes in curiosity.

"What?"

Cas shrugged, "I just never thought of you as the cuddling type."

Dean jerked his head up and glared at him, declaring defiantly, "I am _not._"

The angel raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Dean, what are we doing now?"

"Long-term embracing." Dean said with a yawn, letting his head fall back down on his chest and closing his eyes. As if sensing Castiel's eye roll, he muttered, "Shut up, Cas. There's a difference."

Castiel let himself cast one more fond glance down at the man in his arms before closing his eyes and allowing his own subconscious to drift off.

* * *

**_Author's Note: The next oneshot - entitled "Better Than Star Wars" - will be posted tomorrow! Reviews, follows, and favorites would be awesome._**


	3. Better Than Star Wars

**Day 03: **Gaming/Watching A Movie

**Title: **Better Than Star Wars

**Summary: **Castiel hates Star Wars, so when Dean makes him stay up with him to watch the marathon, the angel comes up with a...unique way to distract him.

**Notes: **Beware it gets a little raunchy towards the end but definitely not enough so to make the rating go up.

* * *

When Dean had suggested staying up all night to watch a movie marathon depicting constellations in nuclear warfare, Castiel had to admit that he'd been reluctant at first. But with one look at Dean's pleading emerald eyes and pouting lip, he knew he couldn't resist anything his boyfriend truly wanted (when noticing this, Sam would always call him "whipped," which Castiel didn't understand because other than a few wild times in the bedroom, Dean had never used a torture device on him). But only two agonizing movies in, the angel was beginning to regret his decision of caving in to Dean's demand.

As he came to painfully discover, the series of films was _not_ about what the title alluded to. Instead of focusing on astronomy like he'd expected, the movies revolved around this over-dramatically absurd plot in a ridiculously inaccurate setting (Cas just wished Dean would stop poking him in the side every time he tried to slip into unconscious bliss). In all honesty, he didn't know what the Winchester brothers saw in these movies; Dean and Sam had acted very eccentric (the right term would be "nerdy," but Cas knew all too well that suggesting Dean was anything but this almighty being of epic awesomeness was guaranteeing the chance of coitus to go down significantly) at the very idea of dedicating a whole night to stay in and watch the movies, but Castiel couldn't quite grasp what the fuss was about. The special effects were pathetic and the aliens looked as if a nine year old designed them.

After the third movie ended, Sam, with a long and deep yawn, announced his exhaustion and retired to his own separate motel room. _The lucky bastard,_ Castiel thought wistfully as he watched him go.

"Dean," The angel said with a sigh, causing the Winchester to tear his gaze off of the screen to glance at him, "I'm tired as well. I suppose I'll—"

"Cas, you can't wimp out," Dean protested stubbornly, "We've just gotten to the Original Trilogy."

"But Sam was allowed to leave." He hated how much he sounded like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum.

"Sam has already seen these movies a hundred times," Dean said before he gave Cas a soft look and added, "C'mon Cas, just a few more hours." And there it was again; that _look_—the very look that made a powerful and almighty Angel of The Lord putty in a mere human's hand.

Castiel sighed, more resigned this time, "Okay, Dean."

Dean gave him a toothy grin and squeezed his hand, "Awesome. Now quiet; it's time to watch where it all began..."

Cas managed to get through half of The Phantom Menace before an idea struck him. With a mischievous smile that was thankfully hidden in the dark, he slowly slid his hand under the blanket and reached for Dean's groin. At the lightest touch, the hunter sucked in a sharp breath and pushed his hand away, grumbling, "No, Cas. Not tonight. Just watch the mov—" Before he could continue, Castiel swiftly pivoted out of his spot on the couch and straddled Dean's lap, pressing hot kisses on the line of his boyfriend's jaw.

"Cas," The hunter half-hearted scolded, trying to appear angry as he held back a moan when Castiel latched onto his pulse and began worrying it with his teeth, "S-Stop. We can do this later."

"What do you mean, Dean?" Cas said innocently as he ground down on Dean's crotch, nipping at his ear as he whispered, "Are you saying that Star Wars is more entertaining than _this_?" He punctuated the interrogative with another grind, causing the hunter to moan loud and needy.

"Cheeky bastard," Dean mumbled, flipping them over so that the angel was pressed down into the couch and he was looming over him, "I'll make you pay for that..."

* * *

As the credits of the Phantom Menace rolled around, Dean and Castiel's panting had finally slowed.

"Oh yeah," Dean said as Castiel nestled onto his naked chest, "_So_ much better than Star Wars."

* * *

_**Author's Note: You will hear from this story again tomorrow with the chapter title "The Benefits of Chick Flicks." **_

_**If you like this story so far, you should help out the striving author by reviewing, following, or favoriting (you don't have to do all three, but it'd be really awesome if you did).**_


	4. The Benefits Of Chick Flicks

**Day 04: **On A Date

**Title: **The Benefits of Chick Flicks

**Summary: **Sam brainwashes Cas with a chick flick, but Dean can't bring himself to be mad this one time.

**Notes: **Warning: Severe amounts of fluff. By the way, the movie Cas mentions is called "50 First Dates" (I've watched it before; I thought it was actually pretty good myself).

* * *

"Dean," Castiel said as he and Dean walked back to the Impala after interviewing a distraught girlfriend, "Why don't we go on dates?"

Dean snorted, "Because look how that turned out for Sarah Johnson. Poor chick saw her boyfriend get decapitated at a drive-in theatre."

Castiel frowned, "I'm serious, Dean."

"Really?" He said, and with Castiel's firm nod, he cocked an eyebrow and added, "What's up with the sudden need for romance?"

"I was watching this movie with Sam..."

"Oh God," Dean groaned, "He brainwashed you with a Chick Flick, didn't he?"

"It was about this man that liked this girl who had short-term memory lost," Castiel explained, ignoring Dean's eye roll at the already cheesy plot, "Since she would never be able to remember him, he was forced to come up with new ways to meet her every day and go on a date. It was very...touching."

Dean stared at him, "If I hadn't had _thoroughly_ checked last night, I would think you were growing a vagina."

Castiel gave him an exasperated look, "_Dean._"

"Okay, okay," Dean said, throwing his hands up in surrender, "We'll go out to dinner tonight. I'm sure Sam can hold down the fort while we're gone."

Castiel's small, secret smile in response was almost enough to quell the sudden spike of anxiety that coiled in Dean's stomach.

* * *

"What's up with the monkey suit?" Sam asked as Dean tugged at his stubborn cuff links.

"Because of you and your girly movie taste, Cas and I are gonna go out on a date." Dean told him curtly, glancing up at the clock to see how much time he had left before Cas arrived.

"Okay," Sam said, obvious puzzlement in his tone, "But why are you in a suit?"

Dean sighed, silently dreading how freaking gay this was gonna sound, "Because it's Cas' first date, and if I have to do it, I'm damn well gonna do it right."

Sam could only hold in his fit of disbursing giggles for a pathetic total of three seconds, "That's so…_sweet."_

Dean scowled, "Shut up." Sam grinned and looked about to tease him further, but a sudden ruffle of feather interrupted him.

"Hello, Sam." Castiel greeted with a nod before he turned to Dean, "Hello, Dean..." He trailed off at Dean's outfit, his gaze soaking up the suit and tie almost hungrily.

Dean smirked, "Hey, Cas. You ready to go?"

Castiel shook off his daze and nodded, "Yes."

"Awesome," Dean said with a grin, smacking Cas on the back and leading him out of the motel room, "Get ready for the night of your life."

* * *

When they pulled up at the fancy, expensive restaurant, Dean decided that he was going to be a nice gentlemen and walk over to open the door for his date. Of course, his plan was foiled because as soon as he cut the engine, Cas teleported out of the vehicle before Dean could even reach for the door handle.

"This doesn't look like your usual style of eatery." Castiel noted with a tilt of his head.

"I thought I'd class it up a little." Dean said nonchalantly with a shrug as they walked through the parking lot.

"Yeah, we got a reservation for Winchester." Dean told the hostess with a moderate amount of awkwardness in his voice once they made it inside.

The hostess nodded and picked up two menus, sending the two a blinding (yet obviously faked) smile as she said sweetly, "Follow me, Gentlemen." Dean knew Cas was shooting him curious glances at the sudden change of scenery, so he made sure to pointedly stare ahead as the hostess led them to their table.

As soon as she seated them (in a nice yet small table with lit candles in the center like in all those sappy romance movies), she said with false cheer, "Your waiter will be here shortly to take your orders." Dean bobbed his head in silent gratitude as the hostess left.

"Dean," Castiel said, examining the set of utensils that were neatly arranged in his napkin, "There are two different types of spoons and forks. Is our meal going to be that immense that we will require such addition utensils?"

"Nah, they're for different uses," _I think,_ he left off, "One's for regular while the other is for, like...salad and shit."

Castiel tilted his head to the side but didn't voice his confusion, something Dean was eternally grateful for (since he had no fucking clue himself either). Clearing his throat, Dean picked up a menu and started looking for the cheapest thing possible...

By then, he promptly started to freak the fuck out.

First of all, he didn't even see anything that looked even a shred familiar on the menu. Honestly, it was like the whole menu was written in a whole other language (which yeah, this was an Italian restaurant and all, but he had expected it to be at least somewhat dumbed down for shit-head Americans like himself). All he wanted was just spaghetti and maybe a slice of pizza, but he couldn't even find that! And the _prices_...seriously, it wasn't like this was his last meal, okay? Why would he spend that much on something he's only gonna shit out later?

With a gulp, he glanced up and saw Castiel staring at his own menu with a perplexed look on his face. Dean swallowed the lump building in his throat and arched an eyebrow, suggesting plainly, "Bail?"

Like the fucking awesome boyfriend he was, Castiel nodded hurriedly, seeming relieved at the suggestion, "Yes."

* * *

They ended up eating at the crummy diner down the road. The building was a little shady and he was half-certain that their waiter was on crack, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he watched with utter fondness as Castiel devoured his second burger.

"This pie is heavenly, Cas." Dean told him, pushing the fork into his boyfriend's mouth with determination. Castiel accepted the bite without even a pause of hesitation, lips wrapping around the utensil and sliding the food into his mouth. He cocked his head as he chewed, curiosity and contempt in his expression.

"This pie does not have any celestial origins," Castiel informed him after he swallowed, adding, "But it is very delicious."

Dean choked on his coke in a fit of laughter.

* * *

"So," Dean said as they walked back to the Impala, "Did the date live up to your cheesy expectations?" He hated how much his stomach churned as he waited for the angel's answer.

"It was wonderful, Dean," Castiel said with that microscopic smile of his, "Thank you for indulging me on my 'chick' needs."

Dean cracked a smile, shrugging as he agreed gruffly, "Yeah, it wasn't the disaster I thought it would be."

Castiel sighed and squeezed his hand, leaning in and kissing Dean chastely on the cheek, "I mean it; thank you."

Dean smirked and pulled Castiel to a stop, wrapping his arms around his neck and murmuring against his lips, "Forgive me for being forward, but do you put out on the first date?"

* * *

_**Author's Note: Three suggestions before I depart: review, follow, favorite.**_


	5. Distractions & Doubts

**Day 05: **Kissing

**Title: **Distractions & Doubts

**Summary: **After failing to prevent a seal from breaking and causing a whole town to go up in flames, Dean desperately needs a distraction from the guilt that plagues his heart. Castiel seems willing to provide.

**Notes: **Sorry if this came out all awkward and forced. It's kinda hard writing a kissing scene in only one day (well...for me it is, anyway). _Important: _this oneshot is set in season four.

* * *

Dean Winchester stood in the middle of the charred, ashy remains of what was once a town full of alive, hopeful people that had foolishly depended on him, self-hatred plaguing his heart and guilt swimming in his lungs. The haunting sound of children laughing at the playground just twenty-four hours ago danced around in his head, another cruel reminder of his tragic failure that made his veins overflow with rage and shame. With a broken sound released in his throat, Dean crouched to the ground and picked up the burnt remains of a tattered teddy bear—a teddy bear he'd seen with a smiling little girl that had all her childish ambitions and bright potential ripped away from her by a poisonous demon whore. The stuffed animal mocked him with its disfigured, broken body, and before he could get himself under control, he launched it as far as he could, teeth clenched and eyes glassy.

"That fucking _bitch_!" He shouted, his trembling fists itching for the chance to slit Lilith's throat not only for the preservation of Earth but for the burning need of vengeance that boiled in his lurching stomach. Sam had left him alone hours ago, somehow knowing Dean needed to unleash his frustration and despondency in privacy. He didn't know where his brother went (probably to talk to Ruby, his new BBF), and he didn't even give a shit at the moment. Even his playtime in Hell was nothing but a distant echo of a memory that resided in the back of his mind as he let himself stir in his overwhelming guilt.

The only thing that dragged him out of his stupor of despair was the sound of wings and Castiel's low, gravelly voice behind him, "Dean. Are you alright?"

A hysterical resonance that sounded vaguely like some form of sour laughter bubbled in Dean's raw, scratchy throat, "I'm just peachy, Cas. How've you been letting everything down here go straight to Hell while you and the other dicks with wings sit on your asses up in Heaven?"

Castiel paused for a moment before replying in a softer, more consoling tone, "Dean, not all seals can be preserved—"

"This isn't about your goddamn shit-show at Sea World," Dean scorned, spinning around to shout and scream at someone just as guilty as he was, "People _died_ today, Castiel; people I could've _saved!_" He sneered, "But A for effort, right?"

The angel pinned him with that intense, unsettling stare of his, faint hints of actual emotion brewing in those cold, inhuman eyes, "This is not your fault, Dean, nor is it ours. You mustn't allow this to get to you."

"News flash, Cas: I'm not like _you,_" Dean snapped, voice thick as he took a step towards him, "I can't turn off my emotions and bathe in my sickening sense of self-righteousness like you high and mighty angels. I'm _human,_ Cas."

Blue eyes regarded him with an undecipherable glint, "I'm well aware of that."

Dean let out a scoff as he stared up at the sky and vainly wished for sweet, blissful numbness. He felt himself drowning in an ocean of fury and despair, and his bones were blocks of cement, dragging him under as the vicious waves of guilt rushed down his throat and filled his lungs. He needed a life-jacket to save him from this treacherous haze that engulfed his body, a distraction to get lost in so he could preserve whatever remnants of a heart he had left that Castiel molded back together the day he gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition.

More specifically, he needed a distraction that had pretty blue eyes and scarred wings.

Before even he could catch up with his own rapid thought process, Dean felt himself grab Castiel by the tie and smash their lips together. At the sudden contact, the angel stilled and seemed on the verge of pulling away, so Dean blindly knotted his fingers into his wild, mussed hair and held him in place, pulling their bodies flush together.

Ever since he first caught sight of him in that warehouse months ago, Dean had imagined Castiel to be as hard and cold as a marble statue, that not even his vessel could conceal the raw power and pulsing grace that thrummed underneath the misleadingly human flesh. But to Dean's surprise, Cas felt almost...human, full of warmth and possessing firm planes of skin that was just as soft and tender as a peach's delicate flesh. But there was something otherworldly about him as well—something that smelled faintly of ozone and ethereal; something that was both corporeal yet unearthly.

During the first few seconds, Castiel's body was as taunt as a bowstring, his mouth entirely unmoving and unresponsive. But as time went on, with Dean's mouth sliding against his chapped lips roughly with strong undertones of thinly concealed desperation, the angel's body gradually became boneless, his lips parting either out of pleasure or pity, Dean couldn't tell (and frankly didn't care). As if that were permission enough, Dean's tongue slithered into the other's mouth as his hands released their tight grip on his hair and slowly slid down to cup the angel's face, taking advantage of their ability to angle his face for Dean's own blasphemous needs.

Finally, when the need to breathe became too insistent, Dean jerked away and buried his head into the angel's shoulder, panting hard and feeling just as fucked up as he had to begin with. As he waited for his breathing to even out, the realization of what he'd just done slowly sunk in. _Well, shit._

With a silent gulp of fear and shame, Dean leaned back and stared up at the angel, his acidic smile tasting like cyanide on his lips, "Back to the Pit, huh?" It was almost disturbing how much he welcomed the thought of returning to Hell, almost as if he knew he deserved it this time around. After all, letting a whole town go up in flames and mouth-raping an Angel of The Lord weren't really things that put him in God's good graces.

If the circumstances were different, Dean would have laughed at how debauched the angel looked—his cheeks flushed, his lips red and swollen, his hair even more ruffled than usual. But with the promise of another forty years of Hell in his future (or just thirty-five, if Cas was feeling generous enough), no form of guffaw would fly past his lips. Though despite his rumpled appearance, the angel's gaze was as steady and intense as ever, perhaps even more so. Looking deep into those piercing, unreadable eyes, Dean swallowed hard, the taste of ambrosia still burning in his throat.

For a minute that seemed to drag on to the end of time, Castiel remained silent and just stared at him, an undertone of raw, foreign emotion darkening those bright blue eyes. Eventually—just when Dean was beginning to believe he was already in Hell and this was some form of sadistic, humiliating torture no one but Alastair could cook up—Castiel reached out and touched his cheek, the graze of his fingertips so light and gentle that if Dean's eyes had been closed, he would have never even felt it. Dean furrowed his brow at the action, but before he could untie his tongue and speak, the angel disappeared, leaving only the brief sound of ruffled feathers in his place.

The absence of his presence was like having a bucket of ice water dunked on him as Dean slowly slid to his knees and could only focus on his own breathing, wondering how this baffling shit-storm ever became his life.

Unknown to him, Castiel stood behind him as an invisible observer, the first seeds of doubt sprouting in his mind.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Next entry will be entitled "Weird Sex Thing." That sounds vaguely enticing, doesn't it? _**

**_As usual, I must shamelessly beg you to review, follow, or favorite (or all three if you want to be an overachiever)._**


	6. Weird Sex Thing

**Day 06: **Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Title: **Weird Sex Thing

**Summary: **At a moment of weakness, Sam forgets to knock on Dean's door and gets a lot more information than he'd bargained for.

**Notes: **Poor Sammy...

* * *

Honestly, it was a wonder why Sam hadn't combusted by now. Ever since Dean and Cas confessed their gay little feelings for each other, their insufferable eye-sex became loud, brain-bleaching _real_ sex that occurred often enough to cause Sam to become unable to even _stomach_ the two in the same room. Seriously, he believed their random, spur of the moment make-out sessions were just his brother's sick, twisted way to make his life a living hell...and between you and him? It was working.

But he'd been civil about his discomfort. Sam made sure to check into his own room at every motel (that was on the complete other side of the building; he learned his lesson the first time), tune Dean out when he made a lewd, inappropriate comment about their apparently _very_ satisfying sex life, and get the hell out of Dodge when they gave each other "The Sex Face" (yes, it had happened _that_ often that Sam even had a name for it). Don't get him wrong though; he was happy that Dean and Cas had finally gotten together after _years_ of "secret" pining and totally-not-brooding-Sammy-shut-the-hell-up (take a guess on who he was mainly talking about…). He just wished they were a little more discrete with their..._happiness,_ you know?

And as expected, it was at a moment of weakness—when he'd found a lead on the werewolf they'd been hunting for the last few days and innocently decided to clue the lovebirds in—when he made a careless mistake and suffered the gruesome, mentally scarring consequences.

Sam was so pumped at _finally _discovering it was the charming yet apparently pedophiliac high school history teacher that had been their werewolf all along, he'd forgotten that he was now supposed to _knock_ on Dean's door before entering and swung the door open, "Hey, Guys, I—" He cut off when he caught sight of the odd situation presented in front of him.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean greeted casually, as if he wasn't dressed in a familiar ruffled suit and trench coat.

Sam felt his eyebrows reach his hairline, "Uh..."

"Hello, Sam," Castiel said, sporting one of Dean's old plaid shirts and faded pair of jeans that hung loosely on his smaller frame, "Have you uncovered anything crucial to the case?"

"Yeah, I think I know who our mutt is." Sam said, eyes flickering between the two, "So...is this some sort of weird sex thing, or...?"

He knew his horrifying words were true when Cas blushed slightly and Dean's lips curled into a coy smirk. Dean—not even _trying _to keep the shit-eating grin off his _smug_ face—gave him a half-hearted shrug, "…Yeah." His answer was punctuated by Sam slamming the door behind him on his way out.

The younger Winchester brother literally had to stop for a moment and put his full focus on terminating _all _mental pictures that unwillingly flitted across his mind. When he'd finally bleached his brain out as thoroughly as possible and shook off the shudder that was threatening to crawl up his spine, he decided he'd much rather fight the werewolf on his own if it meant he'd be able to get away from those freaky bastards.

* * *

**_Author's Note: _****_Hey, if you like this story and don't want a swarm of eagles to swoop down and steal my laptop, you should consider reviewing. These reviews are always so fun to read, and I'd love for the opportunity to read more (and you know...I really like my laptop and don't want an army of birds to ransack my shit)._**


	7. Dr Sexy Or Castiel (Easy Choice)

**Day 07: **Cosplaying

**Title:** Dr. Sexy Or Castiel (Easy Choice)

**Summary: **There's a convention in town, and Dean is adamant about attending. Meanwhile, Cas is adamant about saving a bee, and Sam is adamant about staying out of this whole chaos entirely.

* * *

"I can't believe you actually drove us here just for this." Sam complained, looking at Dean in his _outfit_ with utter disdain.

Dean rolled his eyes, sitting down on the motel bed to pull on his cowboy boots, "Dude, we're in the middle of the apocalypse, the angels and demons are fighting over us like we're Willy Wonka's golden ticket, and you're whining about _this_?"

"I just think it's a waste of time," Sam sighed out as he looked back to his laptop screen, already knowing that his words would only fall on deaf ears, "I mean, there's a pack of werewolves terrorizing a small town in New Hampshire, and we're _here_ just so you can fangirl over a fictional character."

Dean raised a warning finger at him, "Hey, just because Dr. Sexy isn't real doesn't mean my love for him isn't." Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, deciding to just drop it.

Dean ignored his buzz-killing bitch of a brother and glanced over at the bathroom, asking loudly, "Hey Cas, you almost ready?"

"Dean, I still don't understand," The angel said with perplexity on his face, walking out of the bathroom in a male nurse uniform, "Why are we dressing up in deceiving outfits from the medical field when it's not for a case?"

"It's for fun. Like Halloween," Dean told him with a shrug, his eyes dragging up and down the angel's attire, "By the way...you're lookin' good, _Stefan_."

Castiel gave him an almost offended look, "My name is Castiel."

"No, Cas," Dean said with a sigh, staring at the endearing angel exasperatedly, "That's the character you're cosplaying. He's the smart, clever nurse that's Dr. Sexy's best friend...and unofficial secret lover, in _my_ opinion."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Can you stop swooning over your OTP and just leave already. This ship talking is giving me a headache."

Dean and Cas stare at him with identical confused expressions as Dean demanded, "What the fuck is an _OTP_?"

"And we weren't talking about large vessels used for transporting people and goods by sea." Cas added, tilting his head.

"OTP means Official Top..." He trailed off when he saw their blank looks and waved them off, continuing curtly, "You know what? Never mind. Just go to your stupid convention."

With one more curious glance at him, Dean and Castiel opened the door and left the motel room. Before the door closed, Sam couldn't help but adding in a mutter, "Happy sailing, you two."

"Hey, Cas?" Dean began as they walked through the parking lot to the Impala, "You think Sam's on acid or something?"

* * *

Dean felt his eyes go wide when they stepped into the building, actual excitement shooting through his body as he took in his overwhelming surroundings. The convention was covered in fans dressed as varying characters and taking pictures with the actors of the show.

"Look, Cas!" Dean said as he pointed at the cast that was signing autographs, sounding like a kid in a candy store, "It's Doctor Piccolo! And look, Johnny Drake is next to her!"

"I thought you said they were actors," Castiel said, "Are they certified in the medical field as well?"

"Come on," Dean insisted, ignoring the angel's question as he walked further into the building and scanned the room, "We gotta find..." He cut off when his gaze landed on _him._

"Cas, it's him," Dean said with a toothy grin, unable to tear his eyes off the actor to glance back at his boyfriend, "It's Dr. Sexy!" When Castiel didn't respond, Dean's brow furrowed as he turned around, "Cas?" But the angel wasn't behind him.

Panic boiled in Dean's gut as he pushed pass crazed fans and searched of his boyfriend, "Where the hell are you? Cas?" At the fifth time of searching the room and coming up with no angel, Dean concluded that he must have left the convention. Whether his departure was by choice or by force was what the green eyed hunter was worried about.

_He's probably fine, _Dean tried to assure himself, _he's an angel, remember? He disappears all the time._ Still, even with that logical reasoning, he was worried about him. He was an angel, for crying out loud; the nerdy little guy didn't know how to function in the world without him or Sam. And what if he were in trouble? What if he was counting on Dean to break out of his ridiculous stupor and go search for him?

But _Dr. Sexy_. This was a rare opportunity to meet the guy he's been secretly swooning over for the last six months, and Dean was going to throw that away on the slim chance Cas was in danger?

You bet your sorry ass he was.

* * *

It took him three hours to finally find Castiel. He in the local park, crouched down in front of the flowerbed with his intense focus locked on a bumblebee.

"Cas," Dean sighed out in relief once he reached him, "What are you doing?"

"This is Edgar," Cas said, eyes locked on the bee as it danced around his head, "Yesterday, I saved him from a bug zapper that was perched outside the motel. We formed a bond."

Dean furrowed his brow at his declaration, remaining silent for a moment before he finally said sarcastically, "Um...okay. That still doesn't answer the million dollar question: why'd you leave me at the convention?"

"Edgar was being terrorized by a menacing feline," Cas informed him, finally peeling his gaze off of the insect to gaze at the hunter, "He was sending brainwaves of panic and distress to me. I had to save him."

"And you didn't bother to give me a heads up before you disappeared?" Dean demanded, trying to keep his voice as even and light as possible to concern his previous worry, "Cas, I had no idea where you were. You need to check in before you go on some weird crusade."

"I'm sorry," He said, "I was going to come back right away, but I became...sidetracked." The angel then cocked his head, asking, "So how was the convention, Dean?"

Dean sighed, raking a hand through his hair, "I, uh...I didn't stay long. "

The angel paused, noticing the tightness in Dean's expression, before his face lit up in realization and regret, "Dean, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking..."

Dean sighed, smiling tightly as he observed coolly, "You didn't really want to go to that thing, did you?"

Castiel glanced away, replying softly, "My opinion does not matter, Dean. If you want to—"

"Cas, your opinion _does_ matter...at least to me." He sighed and continued, "Cas, we always do what _I_ want to do. Why don't we try doin' stuff _you_ want to do."

A smile found its way on the angel's lips as he looked over at him hopefully, "I've always had a fondness for animals..."

"I'm sure they have a zoo here somewhere," Dean said with a smile, standing up and holding a hand out to Cas, "Let's go find one."

Castiel hesitated, "But what about the convention? Don't you want to go meet the actor who plays Dr. Sexy?"

Dean shrugged, "Nah, he was wearing _tennis shoes_ anyway. He lost all sexiness without the boots."

Cas smiled before his gaze fell to Dean's attire, "Do you wish to go to the motel first so we can change?"

Dean gave him an offended look, "What are you saying, I don't pull this off?"

"I'm just saying that a certain style of clothing stands out when you wear it out of its appropriate setting." Cas said lightly, his words wounding Dean's ego.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever, you're just jealous I look so..." He waggled his eyebrows, "_Sexy._"

Cas sighed, "Dean...at least remove the cowboy boots. I regret to inform you, but they're actually not as...irresistible as you believe."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, fighting to keep a pout from blossoming on his lips, "Do you want to go to the zoo or not?"

Castiel smiled apologetically in response, "Yes."

"Then stop insulting me out of envy." Dean said, turning around and swaggering to the Impala, "Just for that, you lose shotgun privileges for a whole week." But even Dean knew his declaration was hollow; everyone knew he would much rather have a hot Angel of The Lord sitting beside him than a bitchy little brother.

_Speaking of Sammy..._

"Hey, while we're there," Dean said as the two loaded in the car, "Remind me to do something..."

* * *

Meanwhile, a half hour later, Sam began worrying over their return. Hell, he thought their little escapade would only last an hour before Dean would get bored and come back to the motel. But just as he picked up his phone to call and see if they were okay, Dean sent him a text message.

_Hey, Sammy. There might be a case here after all. I just found your doppelgänger..._

And below the message was a picture of a big, hairy moose.

With an angry huff, Sam tossed his phone back onto the table and flopped down on his mattress, muttering, "Asshole."

* * *

**_Author's Note: I loved Dean being a fangirl in Chasing Channels, so I couldn't resist ;)_**

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	8. Baby Moose

**Day 08: **Shopping

**Title: **Baby Moose

**Summary: **When Sam gets de-aged by a particularly bitchy witch, Dean and Castiel must band together and face a gruesome threat: a shopping mall.

**Notes: **Sorry if this kinda sucks. I had real trouble working with this prompt.

* * *

Castiel regarded the toddler with curiosity while Dean just continued to stare at it in horror.

"_Please _tell me you can change him back." Dean pleaded, tearing his gaze off of his _little_ brother to look hopefully at the angel. Cas didn't respond and just took a step towards the toddler, reaching a hand out to press a finger to Sam's head. But before it could land on the toddler, Sammy seized the finger in his chubby hands and squeezed it, giggling as the angel furrowed his brow and tilted his head.

"Is this some form of communication?" Cas asked, eyes trained on Sam's face as if the toddler could answer.

Sammy just grinned toothily at him as he reached out and smacked the angel in the face. Dean had to suppress the strong urge to laugh as Castiel pulled back and looked at Dean with a confused, slightly _hurt_ expression, "I believe I have angered him."

Dean cleared his throat to cover the chuckle that bubbled in his throat as he answered, "No, Cas. That's just how little kids are. You can't talk to them like you would an adult."

"Then how else would I talk to them?" Cas asked.

Dean sighed exasperatedly and fought off a shudder (because hey, he was kinda freaked out to see Sam this young again) as he knelt down and put on his stern, big brother voice that he'd perfected over the course of their childhood, "Sammy, you don't hit, alright? Now stop being rude and let Cas figure out if he can fix you."

"Dee!" Sam responded gleefully, thrusting his hands up as they scrambled for purchase. Thankfully, Dean slid of reach just in time before the toddler could grasp his jacket.

"Go on," Dean told Cas, motioning to Sam, "I'm already going to have a month of nightmares because of this."

Cas stepped forward again and pressed a finger to Sam's forehead, his blue eyes closing shut as his face masked concentration. Finally, just when Dean was about to start pacing like an overbearing mother hen, Cas leaned back and opened his eyes, glancing at Dean with an apologetic expression that did not soothe the worry that boiled in the hunter's stomach, "Your witch was not a weak one. With her years of manifested power and my own dwindling abilities, I cannot exorcise the magic out of Sam's system. I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean let out a frustrated scoff and ran a hand through his hair, "That's just great. So how are we supposed to stop the apocalypse with a baby moose?"

"He will not remain in this state forever," Cas informed him, causing a sigh of relief to slip passed Dean's lips, "We just have to wait until the magic naturally drains from his body."

He arched an eyebrow, "How long will that take?"

Cas sighed, shrugging, "By the power of the magic, I'd say a week. Perhaps two."

"Awesome," Dean said sarcastically, rubbing a hand over his face, "You know, I haven't dealt with Sam this young in over a decade."

"I will help you." Cas declared, causing Dean to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, because you're Mr. Mom." He scoffed before his gaze switched to Sammy, who was practically drowning in adult-Sam's huge plaid shirt and jeans, "If he's gonna be like this for awhile, we need to stock up on some baby supplies."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" The angel inquired.

"We go shopping." Dean answered simply, lifting Sam off the mattress. When he caught sight of the puddle of damp liquid in the spot where the toddler was sitting, he looked over to Cas, cocking an eyebrow, "Is that the magic?"

Castiel leaned forward and studied it for a moment before finally announcing, "No, that is urine."

Dean glared at Sam, who just smiled brightly and wrapped his arms around his neck, saying in his young, upbeat voice, "Dee!"

"Well, who would've guessed," He muttered mostly to himself, rummaging through Sam's clothes to find a shirt suitable for a temporary diaper, "You're a bitch even in miniature form."

* * *

Dean was nothing if not resourceful. He fashioned a diaper out of Sam's favorite shirt (because he was a little shit and Dean felt just a little spiteful about this whole thing) and disguised a motel bed sheet as a shirt. Sure, it wasn't the most stylish attire, but it was the best he could do at such short notice.

"First of all, we need to get him some diapers and awesome clothes, okay?" Dean said to the angel as they strolled through the mall, his green eyes searching for a suitable clothing store, "And none of that Baby Gap shit."

Sam squirmed in Dean's arms, the excitement in his surroundings finally stirring the toddler out of his brief slumber, "Down!"

"You forget that I know you, Sammy," Dean said, smirking at Sam's pissy expression, "I know from experience that as soon as I put you down, you're gonna run as fast as you can away from us."

Sam shot him a dirty look before he look at Cas with puppy dog eyes, sticking out his lip as he reached his arms out for the angel. To Sam's disappointment, Castiel seemed more bewildered than swooned at his cute charade.

Dean chuckled at the expression of defeat on the toddler's face before he immediately went back to business, "Okay, Cas, your job is to find diapers while I try to find some suitable clothes for the little bitch."

"Diapers," The angel repeated slowly, furrowing his brow as he added, "Dean...where does one acquire diapers?"

Dean grinned cheekily at him and patted his cheek, "That's your job to find out, Cas." And with that, he walked away from the angel, smirking to himself as he felt a pair of wide blue eyes follow him until he disappeared out of sight.

* * *

"Wow, Sam, this is the best you've ever dressed." Dean said with a smirk as he and a newly clothed Sam left the store, packing out two weeks' worth of outfits with them. Sam frowned as he glanced down at his baggy AC/DC shirt and cargo shorts (though he still had his shirt diaper on, which was still clean and dry—much to Dean's displeasure).

"Shut up," Dean said, grinning as Sammy glared at him, "You look _awesome._ Hell, you might even pick up some chicks with that shirt."

As if right on cue, he heard a rich, velvety female's voice crow behind them, "Oh he's so _adorable_."

_Please be hot, please be hot,_ Dean silently prayed and his heart did a little happy dance once he turned around and discovered she was an easy eight on the hotness scale.

Dean gave her a smile, glancing down at Sam, "Yeah, he's something, alright."

The woman smiled back at him, but her main focus was on _Sam,_ stroking his hair as he fruitlessly tried to squirm away, "He's such a cutie. Is he yours?"

Dean wracked his brain for an answer that would potentially get him laid in the nearest future, "Well, uh—not exactly." _Smooth, Dean._

The woman gave him a puzzled look before her eyes lit up in realization (though of what, he had yet to figure out), "_Oh._ So...he doesn't have a mom?"

"Nope," Dean agreed hurriedly, not entirely sure what she was implying but deciding to just roll with it, "No mom in the picture." He opened his mouth to lay on some of his winning charm that had gotten him lucky in the past, but Sam interrupted him by flinging himself out of his arms. Panic gripped Dean's heart and he was about to chase after him before he turned and realized who Sam was running to.

"Up!" Sam commanded, grinning widely as Cas hesitantly obeyed him. Cas shot Dean a bemused look and glanced down to the bag in his hand, "I have acquired the diapers as you requested."

Dean smiled weakly, "Thanks, Cas." He turned back to the woman and saw her eyes flicker between the two men.

"That's what I thought," The woman said with a relieved sigh, glancing at Dean as she continued with a faint blush decoratig her sharp cheekbones, "I hate to ask you this, but my partner and I have been trying for almost a year to adopt. How did you two accomplish it?" Dean's hopes of sex dissipated as a horrific realization washed over him.

"You think him and I," He motioned between himself and Cas, who had gradually migrated over to stand beside the hunter, "Are—"

"It came as a surprise," Castiel answered her, not noticing the glare he received from Dean, "Especially to me. I had dropped by at his insistence and found him with a child. It was...quite baffling."

"Oh, that's so _sweet_," The woman gushed, glancing back at a speechless Dean, "You are such a good husband. And apparently an even better father," Her eyes drifted to Sam's shirt, "AC/DC is Karen's favorite band, too. God, she'd totally flip if she was here."

Dean cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly, searching for the quickest way to get out of this nightmare as soon as possible, "Yeah, well...we better get home to feed the little tike." He glanced at Cas and added sourly, "Come on, _Honey_." A single eyebrow lifted upward at the name, but the angel dutifully followed him with no questions.

* * *

"That was an interesting trip." Cas commented as Dean struggled to Sam get situated in the new car seat they'd just bought.

"Why did you imply to that lady that we were butt-buddies?" Dean demanded, spinning around to glare venomously at him, "Like seriously, what the fuck?"

Castiel blinked, "I did no such thing." He tilted his head as he casted a glance back at the mall, "I had no idea that was what she was thinking. I only answered her question truthfully."

Dean rolled his eyes exasperatedly but couldn't find it in him to be all that upset (after all, the girl did turn out to be gay, so no loss, no gain, as they say), "Whatever." He took the bag from Castiel's hand and rummaged through it, grimacing at its contents, "Cas, did you seriously buy him Disney Princess diapers?"

Cas shrugged, "You didn't specify."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, announcing flatly, "Sometimes, I have to wonder if you screw with me on purpose."

* * *

Later that evening, Dean discovered that Sam wasn't just a bitch; he was a _traitorous_ bitch.

The little toddler practically clung to the angel all evening; hell, he barely even paid attention to Dean, even though _he_ was the one that fed him, bathed him, and wrestled him into his new Transformer pajamas. And Dean had to admit, he was feeling a little jealous at the attention Sammy was giving Cas, as if he was the most supreme being in the universe (which hey, Cas was pretty cool and all, but Dean was _cooler_, you know?). The only hilarious part of the situation was how utterly _lost_ Cas looked, staring at Sam with puzzled blue eyes as the toddler happily babbled on in gibberish baby-talk and played with the buttons on his trench coat.

"Okay, Sammy," Dean sighed out, standing up and lifting a drowsy Sam from Castiel's lap, "Bedtime, Champ."

As he situated Sam on the bed, the toddler cracked an eye open and blindly reach up and touched his rough, stubbly cheek, "Night, Dee."

Dean couldn't help but smile at him as he gently ruffled Sam's hair, saying softly, "Night, Kiddo."

Sam yawned and shifted his gaze to Cas, who sat in the recliner rigidly as he watched them, "Night, Cas."

If Dean didn't know any better, he would've sworn he saw a glint of tenderness flicker across those usually indifferent blue eyes before they returned to their regular stoniness, "Pleasant dreams, Sam." Apparently satisfied with both their replies, Sam buried his tiny body further into the mountain of blankets and fell fast asleep in a matter of seconds.

With a sigh, Dean sauntered over and flopped down onto the sofa, pouring himself a well-needed glass of whiskey, "Kids wipe you out faster than any monster, eh?" Cas remained silent as he slipped out of the reclining chair and sat down next to Dean with an unreadable gleam dancing in his blue eyes.

"You want some?" Dean asked, motioning to his glass.

Cas shook his head, staring intensely at the television despite obviously not paying attention to what was happening on the screen. Dean wanted to ask what was up with the cold shoulder treatment, but he always backed just as the question was about to tumble from his lips.

"Did you honestly feel that horrified when the woman thought we were together?" Castiel asked eventually, breaking the silence.

And how the fuck was he supposed to even respond to something like that? _'Well, to be honest, it's not like I haven't thought about it before, but it does freak me out a little when it's implied somewhere other than my subconscious'_? ...Yeah, speaking the complete truth was out of the question. After all, that would only make this whole conversation even more awkward than it was now (if that was even possible considering the amount of blood that was flooding to Dean's cheeks).

"Horrified is a strong word." Dean eventually muttered in response, draining the rest of his drink as if that would help drown the pesky feelings that kept stubbornly bubbling to the surface every time he saw the angel.

"Then what is a more appropriate term?" Cas pressed, his gaze locked ahead though Dean knew the angel was watching him intently from the corner of his eye.

Dean sighed, raking a hand through his hair, "Dammit, Cas…you know I'm not good with words. High school dropout, remember?"

Cas stayed silent for a long moment—so long that Dean thought the angel dropped the dangerous conversation altogether. But just as Dean allowed himself to relax (and fight off the odd sense of disappointment that settled in his gut at his silence), Cas declared quietly, "Then why don't you use something other than words to express your feelings?"

It took Dean half a second to realize what he meant. But when the meaning of his words sunk in, Dean's breath caught in his throat. He stared Cas with wide eyes, but the angel refused to remove his gaze from the television. _Well, this is it,_ Dean thought, his heart beating so loud it was a wonder that he could even hear his own thoughts, _put up or shut up._ Before he could mentally talk himself out of it, Dean caught Castiel's chin and forcibly turned his head so he would finally look at him. The hunter's gaze lingered on Castiel's deep blue eyes before it dropped to his chapped lips. He watched with intense interest—intense _desire_ as those chapped lips formed his name, "Dean..." Dean didn't let Cas continue as he leaned in and captured the angel's lips with his own.

Meanwhile, little Sammy hid himself in the covers and tried not to giggle in victory.

* * *

**_Author's Note: I'm sorry this was so terrible. Next chapter will have Charlie and Kevin in it, so I hope that'll make up for this monstrosity. _**

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	9. Charlie: Captain of the SS Destiel

**Day 09: **Hanging Out With Friends

**Title: **Charlie Bradbury: Captain of the SS Destiel

**Summary: **Charlie Bradbury was known as many things: a queen, a nerd, a genius, and—most recently—the president of the Destiel fan club (also known as the one where everyone in the bunker ships Destiel, but Charlie's the one that makes it canon).

**Note: **I've always had a headcannon that Charlie ships Destiel, and now I've been granted an excuse to write it! _Important: _This is set somewhere in season eight(_Warning: _It has a little suggestiveness at the end).

* * *

"Charlie," Dean said, his eyes holding a silent warning before he glanced over at the trench coated angel, "This is Cas."

Cas stuck his hand out, beginning in a deep, gravelly voice that even had Charlie's nether-regions quivering, "It's nice to meet—"

"Oh my god, Cas!" Charlie cut him off, tackling the angel in a hug, "I've heard so much about you! Well, and _read_ so much about you, including those Supernatural books."

Castiel remained stiff in her embrace, his tone possessing a hint of bewilderment as he repeated, "Nice to meet you. Dean has spoken often of you."

Charlie finally released the angel and arched an eyebrow at Dean, crossing her arms over her chest as she asked mockingly, "All good things, right?"

Dean shrugged, "Mostly."

Charlie rolled her eyes and picked up her suitcase, glancing back at Castiel, "Well, I hope I've lived up to your high expectations, Cas."

"High is a strong word." Dean teased gruffly, a corner of his mouth curling upward in amusement.

Charlie chuckled, shaking her head, "Whatever. Let's go hang out with the rest of sleepover guests. Onward, Gentlemen!"

Dean shot her a quick smile before turning around and walking further into the bunker to find Sam and Kevin, Cas and Charlie following after him. Even though she wanted to gush more to Cas, the angel walked diligently by Dean's side, leaving the redhead to walk slightly behind them. In result of boredom, Charlie swept her gaze around the bunker, silently appraising how much of a medieval castle it looked (it even had a freaking dungeon, for crying out loud!). But as she settled her gaze back ahead, she was surprised to find Dean's hand tucked in the crook of Castiel's elbow, the action seeming almost subconscious as neither men acted any differently in result of contact. Charlie tilted her head, _interesting..._

* * *

Charlie had only been at the bunker for one hour, and Dean and Castiel had touched each other a total of twenty-three times. It was small touches, of course—their shoulders pressed together, their hands "accidentally" brushed against each other's, the ghost of a hand on the small of the other's back, an arm slung around a shoulder—but Charlie knew what all that touching meant, and it sure as hell wasn't friendship-rooted. After all, Dean Winchester wasn't much of a touchy-feely kind of guy, and _he_ was the one that initiated most of the contact. And Cas? Excluding the quick, reluctant hug Charlie attacked him with, the angel hadn't touched anyone else but Dean.

And sure, _maybe_ she could have convinced herself that it was just a weird friendship thing if it weren't for all the eye-sex. Seriously, the very few times they weren't up in each other's grill, they were mentally making out with each other. Those soft, heated glances that were casted when they thought no one else was looking had been enough confirmation that something was going on between the two.

So when they finally agreed to go into the living room to watch a movie (_Galaxy Quest_—Charlie, Dean, and Cas had won by the majority), Charlie grabbed Dean's wrist and gave him one of those silent _"I-need-to-talk-to-you"_ looks, immediately making the Winchester to come to a complete stop.

"Dean?" Castiel said just at the doorway, tilting his head, "Are you coming?"

Dean gave him a smile, "I'll be there in a minute, okay? Gotta talk to Charlie first." Cas hesitated, casting him a lingering glance, before he eventually nodded and disappeared off to the living room.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked as soon as he was sure everyone else was gone, "You in trouble?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine," Charlie assured him before a coy, knowing smirk spread across her face as she added, "I just wanted to know how long has _that_ been goin' on?"

Dean furrowed his brow, "What's been going on?"

"You know," Charlie said exasperatedly, not sure why he was playing dumb, "How long you been bangin' an angel and not telling me?"

Dean's confused expression soon morphed into horror, "Me and _Cas_?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, the other handsome angel in the trench coat."

"We're not—we're just friends," Dean declared sternly, turning redder and redder by the second, "Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow as she pointed out, "The touching, Dean? Or how about the staring? Seriously, I've been waiting this whole time for you two to rip each other's clothes off." Dean's mortified, embarrassed expression made a sudden realization dawn on the redhead.

"Wait a minute," She said, squinting her eyes skeptically at him, "Are you telling me you two _aren't_ together?" She was kind enough to leave off the _"yet"_ at the end of the question.

"No!" Dean denied strongly, "Cas is like a brother to me."

"Really?" Charlie said, unable to suppress a snort, "Then how come you don't shoot Sam those _steamy _looks?"

"You're insane." Dean snapped, spinning around and stalking out of the kitchen. Charlie furrowed her brow at his hostility and followed him out into the living room. Without a word to anyone, Dean flopped down on the couch, glaring stubbornly ahead at the television screen. Castiel—who'd been standing, probably waiting to see where Dean sat—glided over and sat next to Dean a _lot_ closer than necessary, the two practically sharing the same cushion. Though as soon as the angel sat down, Dean abruptly stood up, saying curtly, "Personal space, Dude." Cas looked puzzled and hurt as Dean sat down as far away from him as possible.

Sam and Kevin raised an eyebrow at Dean's behavior but didn't comment on it, instead hooking up the DVD player and popping in the disc.

All throughout the movie, Cas shot Dean confused glances, but the eldest Winchester blatantly ignored him, his cheeks still painted red from his conversation with Charlie.

To be honest, Charlie paid more attention to the thick tension brewing between the two men than the actual movie (which was fine since she practically knew every line by heart). She couldn't help but feel a little guilty—and oddly curious—regarding Dean's sudden cold shoulder treatment.

* * *

"Tell me I'm not crazy," Charlie said to Kevin in a low voice as Dean, Sam, and Cas went on a snack raid in the kitchen, "Dean and Cas—they're, like, soul mates, right?"

Kevin snorted, "Yeah, everyone knows that. Well, except Dean and Cas, that is."

"Good," Charlie said with a relieved sigh, "I thought I just royally screwed up a friendship for no reason."

"You say something to Dean about it?" At Charlie nod, Kevin shot her a sympathetic glance, "Let me guess, that's why he's been acting like he has PMS?"

"I didn't know they weren't together already!" She defended herself, "Hell, they kept looking like they wanted to have each other's baby. How was I supposed to know that it was UST instead of just regular ST?"

Kevin sighed, adding, "And he's not going to get over it for a month either. I hinted at it one time—you know, just as a little joke—and he barely even looked at Cas for _weeks_ after that."

"We need to get them together." Charlie declared, causing Kevin to laugh.

"I'm serious," She told him sternly, "This could be, like, our destiny or something."

"I thought my destiny was to be a prophet." He retorted, causing Charlie roll her eyes.

"That's just your day job; _this_ is your _real _calling," Charlie then leaned to whisper intently, "Now, when they get back here, I want you to flirt with Cas, okay? It'll make Dean jealous."

"Why me?" Kevin complained, "It's your idea—your _destiny_."

"I like my lovers with boobs," Charlie reminded him, "And Dean knows that; he won't take it seriously if I flirt with him. You, on the other hand…"

"I'm straight," He pointed out stubbornly, "He shouldn't take it seriously when I do it either."

Charlie gave him a skeptical look, "You're straight, huh?"

His eyes narrowed, "What's that supposed to mean—"

"We have Cheetos and grape soda!" Sam announced as the three entered the living room and resumed their spots around the television (they were watching _Clockwork Orange_ now since Cas and Kevin had never seen it, which Sam had deemed an absolute _travesty_).

Fifteen minute into the movie, Charlie elbowed Kevin in the ribs and motioned at Cas. Kevin rolled his eyes and sighed silently, turning towards the angel and putting on a bright smile, "So, Cas...did it hurt?"

Castiel gave him a confused glance, "Did what hurt, Kevin?" Charlie grinned when she saw Dean stiffen, his gaze locked on the screen though his attention was obviously on their quiet conversation.

Kevin swallowed, blushing slightly as he blurted out, "When you fell from Heaven?"

Sam busted into laughter as Castiel disappeared with a ruffle of wings.

Dean stood up and scowled at Kevin, walking over to smack him in the back of his head, "Nice going, Asshole."

"Where are you going?" Sam asked as Dean stomped down the hall.

"I'm going to see if Cas is alright." Dean told him curtly, giving Kevin another deadly look before he turned and continued on walking.

Once Dean was gone, Charlie smacked Kevin in the back of the head, demanding, "Really, Kevin? You use _that_ line?"

"I'm a sheltered nerd with an overbearing mother, Charlie," Kevin exclaimed, "I'm not good at flirting!"

Charlie just stood up and sighed, "I'm gonna go explain what happened, okay? I'll be back."

When Charlie left, Sam glanced over at Kevin and grinned, prompting Kevin to demand tightly, "_What?_"

"Nothing," Sam teased, grinning like a madman, "I'm just glad I'm not the most awkward nerd on the team anymore."

Kevin retaliated by chucking a Cheeto at him.

* * *

It took Charlie a few minutes before she finally found the right door. It was almost shut with only a crack open, allowing Charlie to lean in and hear what they were saying without being seen.

"...didn't mean it, Cas. It was just a harmless pick-up line." She heard Dean say with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"It sounded like mockery," Cas replied sharply before he sighed, "Maybe I should just leave—"

"_No_," Dean snapped as Charlie heard a rustle of clothing that hinted at the hunter stubbornly latching onto the trench coat, "You always leave, Cas, and I have no way of knowing when—or more like _if_ you're ever gonna come back."

There was a pause before she heard Cas reply quietly, "Dean, as long as my burrowed heart is beating, I will _always_ return to you. Don't you know that?"

Dean sighed, "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

Cas swallowed hard, replying softly, "I told you once that I did everything for you—fell from grace, turned against my own kind, risked my life however many times you needed. And even now—with _everything_ that has happened between us—all of my actions and decisions in this life stem from my unconditional devotion to you. You may not be sure you trust me, Dean, but you must know that _I_ trust _you_; that _I_ am loyal to _you._ You are the _only_ person that had showed me mercy when I deserved punishment, that taught me freedom when all I knew was obedience. I don't serve Heaven or Man, but I do serve _you._"

"Dammit Cas..." Dean muttered before Charlie heard the bed bounce and lips slap together. Charlie's eyes widen in realization as a soft moan filtered through the door, and she quickly backed away and walked back to the living room.

Sam raised an eyebrow at her, "They doin' okay?"

"I'm pretty sure they're more than okay, Sam." She said, winking at him.

Once her meaning sunk in, Sam let out a relieved sigh, "Well, it's about damn time. You thought tonight was painful? Try living with it for four flippin' years."

Charlie just grinned and sat back down on the couch next to Kevin, saying cheekily, "Let's just keep watching the movie, Guys. They might be in there for awhile."

* * *

Three hours later, after Sam and Kevin had already went to their rooms to go to sleep, Dean finally walked into the living room, wincing slightly with every limp step he took. Charlie could only grin at him, "How was it, Dean?"

Dean smirked, "_Heavenly._"

The two busted into laughter and high-fived.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Stay tuned: next chapter has Gabriel in it (the charming, badass archangel that would really like it if you reviewed, followed, or favorited)!_**


	10. Don't Be Such A Pussy

**Day 10: **With Animal Ears

**Title: **Don't Be Such A Pussy

**Summary: **It's Halloween night, and normally Dean would be excited to gather up as many succulent treats as possible. But when Gabriel forces him and Cas to have _matching costumes, _he just wants this trip to be over as soon as possible

**Notes: **A crack fic at its finest, my dear readers. Also, I'm sorry (no, I'm actually not), but I just _had _to put Sabriel in this. I didn't plan for it to happen, honest; it just…bled into my writing.

* * *

So, a fallen angel, two hunters, and an archangel go trick-or-treating...

Sounded like a joke, didn't it? Well, unfortunately for Dean Winchester, this "joke" was his life.

"I swear, if I had holy oil right now..." Dean grumbled as he sluggishly walked down the street, causing Castiel to shoot him an apologetic glance.

"C'mon Slow-pokes," Gabriel said, skipping merrily down the block with a plastic pumpkin bag clutched in his hand, "We got fifteen hundred more houses to go through!"

Dean's eyes widened, "Tell me he's joking," When Cas shook his head, Dean looked over at his brother, who was still fruitlessly trying to remove the moose antlers that Gabriel had mojo'd stuck to his head, "Sammy, go control your candy-addicted boyfriend before he kills us from exhaustion and diabetes."

"How?" Sam demanded, finally giving up on his impossible task, "Put him in a candy rehab center on Halloween?"

"Yeah, you're right," Dean sighed out with a shrug, "I forgot you don't wear the pants in the relationship."

Sam shot him a venomously glare while Gabriel just stopped, glancing back at them with a toothy grin, "Actually, Sammy wants me to wear pants as little as possible. Isn't that right, Bullwinkle?"

"Shut up." Sam replied, warmth flooding his cheeks despite the frigid night air.

"Why are you such a party-pooper tonight, Dean-o?" Gabriel asked, arching an eyebrow, "As I recall, you were the first one on board with my plan to ransack the rich neighborhoods for sweets."

"That was when I thought I'd get to pick out my own costume." Dean reminded him sourly, motioning at the cat ears that were perched on his head and the long tail attached to his jeans, "I wanted to go as something cool like John Wayne or Darth Vader."

"Oh come on, Dean, don't be such a pussy," Gabriel teased, earning a glare from the eldest Winchester, "Besides, it's not like I picked that out for you. Cassie wanted to be a cat, and you know how couples always have matching costumes."

"Really?" Dean challenged with an arched eyebrow, "Thor and a moose? How's that matching."

Gabriel smirked, "You obviously didn't know how much of a slut the god of Thunder was."

"Says the trickster god that had babies with a goat." Sam snorted.

"It was a _stallion_," Gabriel corrected him with a pout before a smirk lit up on his features as he added with a waggle of his eyebrows, "And besides, _it was the heat of the moment."_

Sam glared at him, "You're not funny, Asshole."

"On the contrary, my dear Samantha..."

As the couple began squabbling, Castiel captured Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze, saying lowly, "I apologize for making you dress as a feline with me."

Dean sighed, giving him a tight smile, "Don't worry about it. And besides, never _apologize_ for anything, alright? When in doubt, always blame your brother. Like how I do with Sam."

Cas smiled, "You know, you're lucky Gabriel didn't actually turn us into cats."

"Don't pretend you wouldn't enjoy that, Cas," Dean teased, "You almost love cats as much as bees."

Cas shrugged, "I love all of God's creatures."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "Gee, way to make a guy feel special."

"Come on, Dean," Cas said with an eye roll, a smile tugging at the angel's lips as he added, "Don't be such a _pussy_."

Dean slung his arm around his boyfriend and laughed.

* * *

**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite.**


	11. The Fox & The Unicorn

**Day 11:** Wearing Kigurumis

**Title: **The Fox & The Unicorn

**Summary:** In order to catch a Shapeshifter, Dean and Castiel must go undercover in the most humiliating setting. Sam is having a ball with this, and Dean just wants to shoot him in the balls.

**Notes: **I didn't know what Kigurumis were until I looked them up for this prompt. That being said, after I figured it out, I had a hilarious time writing this.

* * *

"This _sucks_." Dean grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Dean, it's for a case." Sam reminded him, his throat visibly constricting in result of holding in his laughter.

"I don't care," The hunter snapped, "This still _sucks_."

Sam sighed, "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I think you look—"

"So help me Sammy, if you say _foxy_, I'll shoot you in the balls." Dean warned, nostrils flaring (though it was difficult to appear threatening when dressed in a cartoonish fox costume). Sam threw his hands up in mock surrender, the bastard not even _trying_ to wipe the grin off his face.

"I don't know why you're not forced to suffer with me." Dean muttered, though he already knew the answer; Sam had explained the plan to him a hundred times, and Dean had to admit it did possess some form of logic.

"Dean, it's simple," Sam said, "You just go in to the kigurumis convention and find our Shapeshifter while I wait outside as a back-up plan if the situation gets out of hand." He paused before adding, "And besides, it's not like I'm making you go alone."

As if on cue, Castiel walked out of the bathroom, sporting an unicorn kigurumis that dimmed his usually badass appearance, "Dean, are you ready?"

Dean sighed, "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Don't worry," Cas said with a reassuring smile as the three strolled to the Impala (though Dean was more so doing the walk of shame than anything else), "I think you look nice."

"Thanks," Dean said sourly before he cut a glance at him, adding reluctantly, "You don't look too bad yourself."

"May we get corndogs while we're there?" Cas asked with a hopeful tilt of his head.

Dean sighed, a smile tugging at his lips, "Sure, Cas. Anything you want."

Sam smirked and shook his head, "Dean, you are not hearing the end of this for a_ long_ time."

"I wouldn't expect it any different, Sammy." Dean muttered, throwing his arm around his angel and grabbing the keys, "Cas rides shotgun."

Sam sighed, "I wouldn't expect it any different."

* * *

**_Author's Note: If you could find the time, it'd mean a lot if you'd review. _**


	12. Angel or General Tso's Chicken?

**Day 12: **Making out

**Title: **Angel or General Tso's Chicken?

**Summary: **Dean had only the purest intentions when Cas asked him for a favor. It wasn't _his _fault that it got a little out of control...

**Notes: **Sorry this is a little late, Guys! I'd spent most of the day working on my other story "The Things I Can't Say Are The Things You Need To Hear" and only completed this just a few minutes ago. But better late than never, right? _Important: _This is set in season five (like most of my oneshots since that's my favorite season...).

* * *

"I've done some real crazy shit in my day, Cas," Dean said with a grin, coating his hands in shaving cream and gently applying it to Castiel's bearded face and jaw, "But shaving an angel is definitely in my top five."

"I apologize for the inconvenience," Cas said lowly, his averted gaze the only tell-tale sign of his true embarrassment, "It has come to my attention that razorblades have the annoying habit of easily slicing through human skin."

Dean arched an eyebrow at him, picking up the razor and running it through water, "You speakin' from experience, or—?"

_"Dean."_

"Okay, okay," Dean chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, "You're getting bossy, aren't you?"

"Every _human_ has their flaws." Cas replied with a hollow smile, a certain edge of bitterness staining his voice that made Dean's heart clench in guilt. Even though Cas would never say it aloud, Dean knew it was his fault that Cas was like this. If it weren't for him and his stupid free will philosophy, Castiel would still be living it up in Heaven with all the other dicks with wings. And while that didn't really sound that much of a picnic (because in his experience, angels weren't really the most fun people to be around; hell, back in the early days, even Castiel's brief visits felt just like a toothache), he knew it sure as hell was a lot safer than hanging out with the two brothers that just about everyone wanted to kill and/or wear to the prom. That, and he'd be able to keep his angel juice.

"Dean, don't blame yourself," Castiel's deep, steady voice broke Dean out of his usual self-loathing reverie, "It was _my_ choice to rebel." He paused as their eyes locked, "And I still believe it was the right one to make."

Dean swallowed hard and averted his gaze, deciding to just focus on the task at hand instead of getting lost in those intense blue eyes and potentially doing something he'd regret later. Though that feat was proving more difficult than expected when he was close enough to the angel to feel his hot breath on the side of his cheek and inhale the tantalizing scent of soap and ocean spray that clung to the angel's vessel. Cas had always smelled ethereal in some form; it was relieving that some things—even the most trivial things like a falling angel's unearthly scent—never changed. In the dog days of the Apocalypse, familiarity was hard to come by.

"It's a lot quicker to go against the grain," Dean murmured, dragging the first stroke of the razor against Castiel's strong jaw, "And make sure to apply only a little pressure, okay? If you use too much force, you'll get nicked by the blade."

"It's...odd to learn something from a mere human." Castiel said, a corner of his lip curling upward in amusement.

"You know, you really shouldn't sass a guy who has a blade to your throat." Dean replied with a smirk, his heart skipping a beat when the angel chuckled.

They fell into silent after that, Castiel tipping his head back to stare at the cracked ceiling of their latest motel's "clean" bathroom (he wasn't joking; when they had checked in, the woman at the desk literally used air quotes when she described the motel's _stellar_ features as she handed him and Sam the room key) and Dean trying to keep his attention on _not_ jacking up his friend's face instead of wondering what that stubble would feel like against his cheek (so basically, Dean was relieved Cas had lost the ability to read people's minds because nowadays, his mind rarely left the gutter; _especially _around a certain uptight Angel of The Lord). He was halfway done when Castiel spoke, "You know, the concept of falling from grace used to truly disgust me."

Dean arched his brow, saying slowly, "...Okay. Well, if we're swappin' secrets here, the idea of castration doesn't really make me hot in the pants either."

A corner of Castiel's mouth twitched as he rolled his eyes, "Anyway...as I was saying, I used to believe only arrogant, self-serving angels would betray their own kind in order to satisfy their own selfish desires."

"Cas, is there a point to this soap box speech?" Dean asked, cocking a curious eyebrow.

"I was wrong, Dean," Cas declared softly, the atmosphere in the room suddenly growing thick with tension at his sober tone, "Angels don't just fall for their own petty needs. They fall for many different reasons; like a cause, or a principle, or..." He cleared his throat, the action causing Dean's wrist to almost slip, "Or a certain person they have grown to, um..._love..."_

Dean's hand stilled in mid-stroke, eyes immediately snapping upward to lock with Cas' enigmatic gaze, "Cas, I'm not sure if I'm underst—" He was interrupted by Castiel cupping his face and guiding their lips together. In surprise (he tried to tell himself it was in horror, but even _he_ wasn't dumb enough to believe that), Dean dropped the razor, the sound of it hitting the ground completely swallowed up by their shared moan. He felt the remnants of the shaving cream smear on his jaw as he angled the angel's head and gently opened up his mouth, dipping his tongue into the other's mouth and tasting the man that he had tried so hard to convince himself he didn't want. Cas moaned into the kiss, his hands fisting in Dean's hair and tugging at the strands insistently. When they had to break apart for air, Dean took advantage of the situation and lifted Castiel up to sit him down on top of the sink counter before tugging at his tie and sealing their lips together again. Castiel gasped as his legs spread purely out of instinct, prompting Dean to slot his body in between the gap.

"Shit Cas..." Dean groaned, ducking down to mouth at the angel's bared throat, "Did you seriously plan to seduce me in a fucking motel bathroom?"

"No," The angel admitted in a groaned, "But it was a pleasant surprise—"

"Dean, I bought—what the _fuck_?" Sam backed away so fast, it was like he just saw a deranged clown, "_Seriously,_ Dean? An angel? _Again?_"

"Keep your panties on, Sam, I was just teaching him how to shave." Dean said with an eye roll, as if that excuse could honestly explain their incriminating position and the shaving cream that caked Dean's face.

"Jesus," Sam cursed under his breath, shaking his head as he gripped their take-out food and stalked towards the door, "I'm eating in the car. Come get me when you two finish groping each other in the bathroom like horny teenagers."

"See Cas, you already got two lessons down on being human," Dean said with a dirty grin, waggling his eyebrows at the angel, "One on shaving from me, and one on cock-blocking straight from the king himself!" He motioned to Sam with a laugh, who responded by slamming the door shut behind him.

"...You know, I had thoroughly enjoyed what you were teaching me before Sam rudely interrupted." Cas said almost breathlessly, looking flushed and still _totally_ fuckable.

Dean pretended to contemplate this, even though he wanted to do nothing more than tear the angel's clothes off right then and there, "Hm...Angel or General Tso's chicken? Tough choice..."

Castiel rolled his eyes and decided to shut Dean up with his mouth (...which was a _very_ good decision, if Dean had to say so himself).

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	13. Frozen Crisis

**Day 13:** Eating Ice Cream

**Title: **Frozen Crisis

**Summary: **Castiel has a frozen crisis, and only Dean can save him (by sacrificing his much-needed sleep and being the whipped boyfriend he secretly is).

**Notes: **Pure crack. I'm not even sorry.

* * *

"Dean!" Castiel's distraught voice shook Dean from his slumber and had him racing across the bunker, gun gripped tightly in his fist.

"Cas?" Dean said, busting through the kitchen door only to find Cas still in his silk pajamas with no sign of injury, "Cas, what's wrong?"

His boyfriend just stood in front of the refrigerator unblinkingly, staring into freezer with wide, panicked eyes, "They're—They're gone. Dean, they're _gone._"

"What is?" Dean asked in confusion, slowly lowering his gun when it became obvious there was no threat.

"My smoothie popsicles," Cas whispered in horror, and Dean groaned in exasperation, "Dean, there was _at least_ half a box last night!"

"You and Sam inhaled them all this afternoon during that sissy Disney movie marathon, remember?" Dean reminded him with a tired sigh, rubbing a hand over his face in silent frustration, "Look, I'll get you some more tomorrow. Just come back to bed."

"Dean, I _always_ have a mango popsicle before I go to bed." Castiel declared with a scowl, and wow, Dean probably needed to stage an intervention for the guy soon because this shit was _seriously _unhealthy.

In response, Dean just smirked, saying in his slow, deliberate_ 'sex voice,'_ "Hey, if you want a popsicle so bad,_ I_ have one you can taste..."

"If that innuendo is a suggestion to sex, I'm not interested," Castiel said, causing Dean's shoulders to sag, "Dean, we have to go to the store."

He sighed, rolling his eyes, "Okay, after we have breakfast in the morning, I'll—"

"_Now._" Castiel said firmly, slamming the freezer door shut and staring at him with a stern, steady gaze, "I can't sleep without ice cream, Dean. I _can't_."

"Cas," Dean groaned, "Come on, it's too late for this shit."

"Dean, please." Just one look at those big puppy dog eyes (which looked so similar to Sam's that Dean was utterly convinced the two assholes had been swapping notes).

Dean sighed and brooded (because men don't _pout_ goddammit; they _brood_), "_Fine._ Just go wait in the Impala. I'll be out in a minute."

The smile of pure delight and gratitude that lit up on Castiel's face almost made up for all the sweet, blissful sleep he was missing.

_Almost._

* * *

After he got dressed, he stumbled out of his room and walked towards the exit. Sam—who was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of _milk_ like a total _pussy_—sluggishly raised an eyebrow at him, stating with a long yawn, "Dude, it's two o'clock in the morning."

Dean sighed and simply said in explanation, "Cas."

A slow smirk found its way on Sam's sleepy face, "Dude, you are _so _whipped."

Dean wanted to argue—to deny his claim and say _he_ wore the pants in the relationship, thank you very much—but all lies died in his throat. Instead he just nodded sadly and made his way to the door, grumbling, "Yeah, I know."

Even half asleep, Sam still managed to look smug.

* * *

"Here," Dean said as he opened the car door and thrown Cas the box of popsicles, rolling his eyes as Castiel tore into the box like he was a starving man being handed a four course meal, "Jesus, you're like a chick on her period." Cas just replied with a small, sheepish smile and hesitantly offered him a grape popsicle.

Dean sighed but accepted the peace treaty, unwrapping the frozen treat and taking a hesitant lick, "Yeah, well...I guess you could be a lot worse."

Hell, at least he wasn't as bad as _Sam._

* * *

They stayed up for an additional hour lounging in the kitchen and finishing off the rest of the box (with only mild brain freezes, Dean was proud to admit).

"I love you, Dean." Cas said sincerely as soon as he finished devouring his fifth mango popsicle.

Despite his pressing exhaustion and frozen mind, Dean smirked, replying quietly, "Back at ya, Sweetheart." Cas smiled and leaned in, kissing Dean softly and chastely on the lips. The kiss tasted like sweet corn syrup and artificial flavors, and it made Dean's heart and sweet tooth ache with delicious satisfaction.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite.**_


	14. Slumber Party

**Day 14: **Genderswapped

**Title:** Slumber Party

**Summary:** Deanna and Cass share a chick flick moment.

**Notes:** It was actually a little weird to write Destiel in female form, but I hoped I did it justice (hoped is the key word). _Important: _This is set a week after 5.04 "The End"

* * *

Steam pooled out of the bathroom when Deanna opened the door, scrubbing her long golden hair with her towel as she sauntered further into the empty motel room. _Seems like Sammy's still at the library, _she thought to herself, rolling her eyes but unable to keep a fond smile from tugging at her lips, _no wonder she never gets laid._

With a sigh, she flopped down onto the bed and gazed blankly at the dirty, cracked ceiling above her, the memory of her angry, bitter future self of 2014 refusing to leave her mind. It'd been a week since she came back to her own time and patched things up with Sam, and she still couldn't shake the nightmares that the little _field trip_ brought. Just everything about that fucked up future was so _wrong_; hell, Deanna knew she wasn't the easiest to get along with (and Sam could attest to that whole-heartedly), but she would have never imagined she would turn into something like _that_—a person so tired and numb that she'd finally gave up any hope and stopped feeling altogether. Her future self was almost as scary as seeing Sammy as the devil's prom dress...

She shuddered at the image, horror and fear shooting through her veins even though she knew that she'd never see it the second time around. _It won't come to that again, _Deanna vowed to herself, _we'll find a way to clean up this mess. We always do._ Though deep within herself—the part that Deanna tried to listen to as least as possible—reminded her that perhaps the apocalypse was a mess that not even the Winchester sisters could clean up.

Deanna switched her gaze to the night-stand beside the motel bed, glaring at the clock that read 4:45pm. Sam said she'd be back around six, and Deanna didn't know how she'd last that long without dying of excruciating boredom. She blindly reached for her cellphone and typed in a phone number, waiting patiently until she heard a smooth, silky female's voice that held so much power and poise that it sent a shiver down her spine, "Hello?"

"Guess who." Deanna said with a grin, examining her blunt, cracked nails.

"I don't need to guess," The angel replied flatly, her unamused voice only making the hunter's smile widen, "I recognize your voice, Deanna. Are you in danger?"

"I'm always in danger," Deanna pointed out, shrugging, "One of the many downsides of being an angel condom, remember?"

He heard her sigh, "I am quite aware of the fact."

Deanna smirked, staring up at the ceiling and imagining two blue eyes, "So what are you doin' right now?"

"Searching for The Lord on the outskirts of Canaan."

She arched an eyebrow, "Any luck, or is he still dodging alimony?"

"He's not here," She answered sadly before she paused, "Where are you?"

"SleepyTime motel, room 14." As soon as she got the words out, a ruffle of wings echoed in the motel room as an angel suddenly appeared at the foot of her bed.

Deanna grinned up at her as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, "Hey, Cass."

Cass tilted her head at her, the intensity of those big blue eyes causing the hunter's smile to falter. There were many aspects of the Croatoan future that still haunted her, and future Cass' dim, hollow eyes were definitely one of them. The remembrance of that twisted version of the angel—the stoner whore who was always too blissed out on pills and meaningless sex to give a damn about anything anymore; even her own _life_—made her stomach churn. She'd always thought Cass needed to loosen up a bit, but after seeing her _that_ loose, Deanna had chosen from then on to stop pushing her into corruption and earthly decadences. That innocence in her eyes—that utter faith and trust that was almost as rare and beautiful as the angel herself—was something to be preserved, and if Deanna didn't take it upon herself to do it, then who would?

"Your hair," Cass said suddenly, breaking the hunter out of her reverie, "It's...unkempt."

Deanna arched an eyebrow, "You're one to talk." Her gaze fell to the angel's long, midnight black hair that was always ruffled and full of tangles, as if she'd just rolled out of bed and didn't bother to even run a comb through it. Now Deanna wasn't saying she was a beauty queen or anything, but at least she made the effort to tie her hair into a sloppy bun or ponytail. But when she stepped out of the shower, Deanna was too lazy to brush through it, so her damp hair was a matted rat's nest.

"I rarely give my vessel's maintenance a thought," Cass admitted, tilting her head as she added, "But you are more attentive with your appearance."

Deanna sighed and gave her a half-hearted shrug, "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me, Deanna." Cass said with such utter reverence and conviction that Deanna's heart burned with shame at an act she hadn't even committed (not yet anyway).

_"You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder?" Deanna said in astonishment, utter disbelief and shock coloring her voice, "**Cass,** too? You want to use their __**deaths**__ as a diversion?"_

_Her future self just glanced away, and at that moment, Deanna was convinced this wasn't herself. This was a sick, bitter monster wearing her torn, frayed skin._

"Never say never, Cass." Deanna muttered lowly, glancing down at the ugly motel sheets as the pressing urge to drink was too great to ignore.

But just as she climbed off of the mattress to get herself a can of beer (or maybe two, at the rate her own self-loathing was going), Cass startled her into stillness by asking a small, innocent request, "Would you like for me to brush your hair?"

Deanna shot her a bemused look and was surprised to see total innocence and sincerity brewing in that breathtaking ocean gaze, "Dude, do you have some kind of hair kink or something?" Cass tilted her head in confusion, so the hunter rolled her eyes and continued, "Isn't that like abusing your angel mojo?"

"I was not going to use my abilities," The dark haired woman declared as a brush appeared in her hand, "I thought it'd be beneficial for me to learn basic human maintenance considering that the possibility of my own..._demotion_ is becoming larger with each passing day."

"Demotion?" Her eyebrows shot up, "You're, uh...you're become human?"

_It was weird to see Cass driving, but really, __**everything **__was weird about this Cass—something dark and hollow that was no one's fault but Deanna's._

_Cass briefly let her gaze wander from the road as she picked up a bottle of pills and took a long swig of as if it were beer, letting out a small, satisfied sigh of relief._

_"Let me see those." She ordered, grabbing the bottle with enough haste and anger that it made Cass chuckle darkly._

_"You want some?" She asked, her voice dropping even lower as the pills burned down her throat._

_The hunter ignored her, feeling her own eyes widen as she read the label in horror, "Amphetamines?"_

_A corner of Cass' lips curled into a wry smirk, "It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe."_

_Deanna looked away, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat, "Um...Look, don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh—I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what's going on—w-with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?"_

_To her surprise, Cass let out a laugh—a dry, empty laugh that was stained with years of bitterness and pain. The sound made Deanna's heart chip._

_"What's so funny?" She demanded, feeling almost defensive._

_Cass shook her head and grinned at her, "Deanna, I'm not an angel anymore." __All blood shooting through her veins suddenly turned ice cold._

_"What?" She said, her breath hitching._

_Cass' smile faltered only slightly as she put her gaze back on the road, "Yeah, I went mortal."_

_She narrowed her disbelieving eyes at her, "What do you mean? How?"_

_"I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of—" She made a breathy noise and gestured widely, "—drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human." She scoffed, "I mean, Deanna, I'm all but __**useless**__. Last year, I broke my foot and was laid up for two months."_

_Deanna paused as a wave of emotion washed over her, and she could say was a hollow, "Wow."_

_"Tell me about it." The former angel murmured._

_"So..." Deanna tried to answer more coherently, using sarcasm to hide the pain that plagued her heart, "You're human. Well, welcome to the club."_

_"Thanks," She replied sarcastically, which seemed almost surreal in her deep, honey-coated voice, "Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now? I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell __**not**__ bury myself in men and decadence, right?" She smiled a smile that chilled Deanna to the core, "It's the end, Baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out?" Cass snorted, saying in an empty voice that echoed in that hollow shell of hers, "But then that's—that's just how I roll."_

_Deanna turned her head away so Cass wouldn't see the tears burning in her eyes. _

"Deanna?" Cass said, pulling the hunter out of the flashback (flashforward?), "It's only a possibility. When I find God, he'll replenish my grace, and everything will be fine."

"Yeah," She said, trying not to sound as skeptical as she felt as she crossed the room and sat cross-legged on the mattress, "Okay, let's get this over with."

Cass regarded her with puzzlement, "Excuse me?"

"Brush my hair before I change my mind," Deanna told her, glancing at the clock, "We have an hour before Sam comes back and discovers we're having a slumber party without her."

Cass just stared at her for a moment—an act so normal and repetitive, Deanna didn't even try to avert her own gaze anymore—before a small, silent smile tugged at her lips. Deanna tried not to jump as the angel vanished from her spot and reappeared behind her. _Okay, so maybe this wasn't such a good idea,_ she thought with a hammering heart and light-headed mind, but she didn't voice her thoughts. Instead, she allowed herself to stop being the tough, ballsy Deanna Winchester and be a goddamn _girl_ for once.

Goosebumps erupted on Deanna's skin as Cass threaded her delicate hands in her hair, her careful, precise fingers unknotting the tangles with utter ease. Smiling slightly to herself, Deanna tipped her head back and let herself enjoy the soothing moment, whistling, "Damn Cass...you know, if this whole angel thing doesn't work out, you'd rock as a hairdresser."

She could practically feel Cass' wry smile, "Thank you Deanna, but I don't think I'd be as...masterful with anyone else but you."

Deanna cocked an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Because I'm attuned to your body only," Suddenly, she felt her smooth, tangle-free hair be brushed back as Cass leaned in and tickled her ear with her breath, her velvety, baritone voice prompting Deanna to shudder involuntarily, "Deanna, you forget that I _made_ you. I reconstructed every fiber of your body from the Earth. I bent the limbs of the Tree of Knowledge to be your thick, sturdy bones; I took the rushing water of the Red Sea and let it be the blood that flows through you; I took the delicate peel of the Forbidden Fruit and crafted it to be your soft, radiant skin; I spun your hair from the grain of Eden; I contained the strongest winds in the universe and breathed it into your mouth, bestowing upon you the breath of life; I gave you a piece of my own _pulsing_ grace and let it become your heart..." Deanna's breath hitch as she felt those cool, rough lips press against her pulse, warmth spreading through her body like she was bathing in the golden sun, "I know your body better than my vessel because I—_I_ built you from the ground up after I gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition."

Deanna slowly turned around and stared into Cass' blue eyes, their shared breath only thickening the tension that stirred between them. Just a little further, and they'd be—

"Hey, I brought Thai food!" The door opening and Sam's oblivous, cheerful voice shattered the rare moment between them, and before Sam could even notice her presence, the angel was gone with a faint flutter of wings. Deanna could only stare dumbly at the spot Cass had abandoned, her scalp tingling and body thrumming.

"You okay, Dee?" Sam asked with a hint of worry, setting their bag onto the table and pulling out the takeout boxes of food.

Deanna swallowed hard and nodded, not entirely trusting her own voice. Sam raised an eyebrow at her sister's silence but chose to ignore it, instead deciding to just change the subject, "So, you heard anything from Cass yet?"

Deanna shook her head, averting her gaze as she stood up and walked over to her food, "Nope." Her voice was raw and hoarse, and that was when Sam finally put her full attention on her.

"Seriously, Deanna, are you alright?" She asked again, concern highlighting her features.

Deanna smiled and rolled her eyes, ruffling her sister's brown hair teasingly like she used to when they were kids, "I'm fine, Sammy. Just...Thai food? _Really?_ What's wrong with just a simple burger and fries?"

"Because unlike you," She replied with a grin, the panic fading from her eyes, "I care what I put in my body. Besides, if it sucks, we can just order pizza."

Deanna shrugged at her sister, but in the back of her mind—the part that was still frazzled from Cass' visit—the clear, distinct words played inside her head: _that angel will be the death of me. _When she thought she heard Cass' faint laughter ringing in her ears, Deanna fought the urge to bury her face in her hands and sigh in frustration.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	15. Kilt Me

**Day 15:** In A Different Style of Clothing

**Title: **Kilt Me

**Summary: **Dean and Sam both have slim chances of getting laid tonight.

**Notes: **It was so much fun writing this. I have no regrets.

* * *

"Remind me again why we're wearing skirts?" Dean grumbled as the three walked across the parking lot, silently dreading what the next few hours had in store for him.

"First of all, it's not a skirt," Sam pointed out, sighing, "It's a kilt. _Seriously,_ get some culture, Dean." Dean opened his mouth to retort, but Sam continued on before he had the chance, "Second of all, Amanda invited us to the fair in thanks for taking care of the Wendigo, and it would've been rude to refuse her hospitality."

"I know that," Dean said sourly, rolling his eyes, "I just don't get why we're crossdressing for the _slim_ chance of you getting laid." When Sam gave him an offended look at the word _slim,_ Dean sighed, "Sammy, I'm gonna be blunt with you here—if she _actually _wants to sleep with you after she's seen you in a skirt, the chick's a freakshow and definitely not worth it."

Sam rolled his eyes, "I'm not only going to get _laid,_ Dean. I'm not _you. _And besides, it's a _themed_ fair. I doubt we'd get in with our usual plaid shirts and ripped jeans."

"It would have been worth a try," Dean argued, glancing over at his boyfriend, "Cas, back me up on this."

"You know, this is surprisingly comfortable," Cas said, staring down at his skirt with a frightening amount of admiration, "I don't know why you have a problem with wearing this, Dean. They're so..._freeing_."

"Yeah well, don't get used to it." Dean said, giving him a stern look when Castiel's shoulders sagged, "Cas, I can handle the flasher coat, but I am _not_ going to let you wear a skirt. _Especially_ in public."

"Dean, you don't tell me what to do." Cas snapped with narrowed eyes, startling a surprised laugh from Sam and a baffled expression from Dean.

Once Sam contained his laughter, he clasped Dean's shoulder and said smugly, "Looks like you have a _slim_ chance of getting laid, too."

At Cas' still pissed expression, he knew it was true.

"Kill me." Dean groaned to the sky, as if there were a merciful God.

Sam grinned, "Don't you mean..._kilt_ me."

Castiel smiled as Dean took a swing at his brother.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite.**_


	16. This Rare Moment of Tranquility

**Day 16:** During Their Morning Ritual(s)

**Title: **This Rare Moment of Tranquility

**Summary: **Dean loves the rare moments of tranquility in the morning.

**Notes: **Pure fluff that made my sweet tooth ache upon writing this.

* * *

Dean woke up to a warm bed and the sound of Castiel humming in the kitchen. He smiled to himself, soaking his tired bones in this rare moment of tranquility for a few more seconds. He found himself groaning in protest when he pushed himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He hated how cold he was after leaving his cocoon of warmth, but he fought through the discomfort as he took a long, relaxing shower and brushed his teeth. He didn't bother changing yet as he slid back into his boxers and sluggishly walked into the kitchen, smiling fondly as he caught sight of Castiel—who was alo in his underwear with one of Dean's old band shirts hanging loosely on his frame—in front of the toaster, totally oblivious to his boyfriend's presence. Silently, he walked deeper into the room and wrapped his arms around Castiel from behind, a little disappointed that his angel didn't jump when he felt Dean press against his back.

"Good morning, Dean," Castiel said, turning his head slightly to sneak a glance at the hunter, "I'm making toast."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "Is it gonna be burnt this time?"

Cas swatted him away, smiling sheepishly, "That was _one_ _time, _you _ass._"

"Actually, if memory serves me right, it was _quite_ a few times." Dean teased, releasing Cas from his embrace to trace the line of his shoulder blades that rippled underneath the shirt, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, Dean," Cas said with a smile, "I always sleep fine when I lay next to you."

Dean felt affection bubble in his chest, but he quickly forced t down before it could be apparent on his face. Instead of replying, he crossed the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, asking casually, "Where's Sam?"

"He's still asleep," Cas answered as the two pieces of fresh toast pop up, unfazed by Dean's sudden bashfulness, "He stayed up late last night trying to find more out information on the poltergeist."

"Kid should get paid for overtime." Dean murmured as they both fixed their own plates and moved towards the dining room.

"So I had this dream last night about Sam with these big, wicked antlers," Dean told him as they sat down at the spacious dining table and began eating, "And he was chasing me around while making these _moose_ noises. I swear, it was the most scared I've been in a _long_ time."

Cas chuckled and took a sip of his coffee, smiling at Dean with that content gleam in his eye. They'd been doing this routine for months now, and Dean still felt a little surprised when he would hear Cas rummaging in the kitchen early in the morning and discover that he'd stayed. It was weird to have the same person to wake up to everyday. Dean hadn't had that since Lisa; actually, that aspect was one of the things he'd cherished most during that brief life of bliss and normality.

The two men talked and talked until their stomachs were full and their throats were dry. Castiel put the dishes in the sink as Dean made his way to the bathroom to get changed for the day.

He came up behind Cas and kissed his cheek, burying his face into the side of the angel's neck and hoping he would understand the things Dean couldn't say—not yet anyway. Not until he was sure Cas wasn't going to leave him again.

"I know, Dean." The angel said softly, pressing his body back to soak up the warmth of the man behind him.

They stood there for a moment before Cas chuckled, "Go shave. Your stubble is burning my neck."

"You're one to talk, Peach Fuzz." Dean grumbled, holding onto his angel for one more second before pulling away.

"I'll go change in our room and wake up Sam." Castiel informed him, as if he didn't do this every morning, as if they hadn't found at least one piece of consistency in their rapidly changing lives.

Dean smiled at him one last time before disappearing through the door.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite.**_


	17. Feelings Better Left Unsaid

**Day 17: **Spooning

**Title: **Feelings Better Left Unsaid

**Summary: **Cas has trouble sleeping; Dean decides to help.

**Notes: **This is set in season five (surprise, surprise, I know; I'll try to broaden my horizons season-wise for these oneshots from now on). I have a better Destiel fic depicting spooning named "Serendipity In Your Arms" that can be found on my profile.

* * *

_Rock, paper, scissors._

"Shit!"

Sam smirked, arching an eyebrow, "Really, Dean? _Scissors_ again?"

Dean scowled, "Shut up." He heaved a sigh, shoulders slumping as he passed the drowsy angel and headed for the bed, "C'mon Cas. Looks like you're bunking with me tonight."

He could practically _feel_ the ever oblivious angel cocking his head, "Dean, I don't wish to make you..." He cut himself off with a long yawn, "Uncomfortable."

"Don't worry about it," Dean murmured, ignoring Sam's smug look and sliding under the covers, "I used to bunk with Sammy when we were kids all the time," He smirked at Sam, "He was a cuddler."

"Whatever," Sam said, rolling his eyes as he turned off the lights and retreated to his _empty_ bed, "Let's just go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow to interview the first vic's wife."

"Yeah, deceiving a mourning widow is exhausting work." Dean joked hollowly, trying to keep his pulse at a calm, heterosexual level. He hated how his body continued to betray him whenever it came to the trench coated angel. Ever since that night after the whorehouse failure, his attachment to Castiel had begun to run deeper than just friendship. So sharing a bed with him for a whole night? The best and worst possible thing to happen in this fucked up shit-storm Dean unfortunately called his life.

He stiffened when he felt Castiel slide into the other side of the bed, and he turned his back to him just so his treacherous dick didn't get any ideas.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Cas said softly, and it broke Dean's heart a little. He was such a good guy (you know, for a dick with wings, of course); he didn't deserve the cold shoulder Dean kept giving him in a vain attempt to satisfy his sexuality crisis.

"Not your fault, Cas," Dean whispered, forcing the tension to leave his body, "You didn't ask to lose your grace." _I took it from you,_ he left the words unspoken but by Castiel's long release of breath, he knew the angel's thought-raping power was still in full-effect.

"Nor is it yours."

Dean let those false words cradle his fragile, guilt-ridden heart as he fell asleep.

* * *

"Dean."

Dean groggily shook his head and turned, fading back into sweet unconsciousness.

"_Dean._"

"Dammit, _what,_ Cas?" Dean growled, careful to keep his fumed voice down in fear of Sam waking up (ever since he found out Lucifer could make a guest star appearance in his dreams, he'd been fighting tooth and nail to stay awake as often as possible, which even _Dean_ knew couldn't be healthy).

He turned around and sucked in a sharp breath when he was met with tired, pleading eyes. He felt his anger fade as the edge in his voice softened, "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," His voice was raw and defeated, the misery coating his tone chipping Dean's heart, "_Please,_ why can't I sleep?"

Dean sighed, "You just need to relax, Cas. It's like—oh, what is it called?—_meditation_. You used to do that kind of shit in Heaven, right?"

Cas paused, his shining blue coloring in contemplation, "Yes, to some degree."

"Well, what do you do to release the tension?"

"I curl my wings around my form to provide a sense of comfort and security."

"Then do that." Dean told him with a yawn, his eyes drooping shut in light of the merciful resolution.

"My wings cannot manifest on this plane of existence," Cas informed him before he paused, his voice quietening to almost inaudibility that if Dean hadn't been barely a foot away from him, he would have missed it, "Besides, I am, uh...losing my wings along with my grace. As my grace continues to drain away, my wings are slowly fading from existence. It's a rather...painful experience."

_And it's my fault._

Dean sighed, heat flooding his cheeks as an idea occurred to him. _God not only exists,_ he groaned to himself, _he's also a vindictive dick._

"Dean, what are you—" Cas began in bewilderment as Dean gently pushed the angel over on his side.

"Just...don't talk about it. _Ever._" Dean growled in his ears, ignoring how the angel shivered as he wrapped his arms around the other's body.

Under his gruff (yet oddly tender, much to Dean's chagrin) embrace, the tension melted from Castiel's body, the angel muttering out a quiet "Thank you" before drifting off.

In the veil of the darkness, Dean smiled, his heart swelling with emotions he wished he wouldn't feel while spooning his _friend._

* * *

Sam woke up with a loud, content yawn, smiling serenely as he slid out of bed and stretched.

"Hey Guys, how'd you—" He cut off when he turned and found the two men still sleeping, their bodies so tangled together Sam couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Sam furrowed his brow at the sight, "Huh." He was tempted to wake them up just to see Dean's face crimson in mortification, and he took a step forward to do just that—

"Don't," Castiel's gruff, drowsy voice made Sam halt as the angel opened his eyes to shoot him a soft, vulnerable look, "Please, just...don't."

Sam sighed, deciding to take pity on the angel, "You gotta tell him sometime, Cas. Trust me, bottling up your feelings like that...it never works. It only hurts you in the end."

His gaze sharpened, "I seldom take romantic advice from a man who was significantly deceived by the demon whore he was fornicating with."

Sam glanced away with a hurt expression, trying to chase away the guilt that gnawed punishingly at his heart, "That's low, Cas."

The angel's glare softened, and he at least had the decency to look ashamed at his cross words, "Sam...I just don't wish to ruin my peaceful relationship with your brother. Along with your friendship, it is one of the only things that keeps me from spiraling in despair at dire times like this."

Sam paused before nodding curtly, moving towards the door, "I'm gonna go get us some coffee. Just prepare yourself for Dean's stereotypical, straight-guy freak out when he wakes up."

It was only when Castiel felt the Impala pull out of the motel parking lot and drive away did he close his eyes again and lean further into Dean's embrace, feelings better left unsaid brewing in his heart.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite.**_


	18. Dean and Cas' Heinous Crime

**Day 18: **Doing Something Together

**Title: **Dean and Cas' Heinous Crime

**Summary:** As their first activity as a couple, Dean hatches a brilliant scheme. Cas, of course, foils it.

**Notes: **I regret nothing about the hilarity and ridiculousness of this oneshot.

* * *

"Dean, I don't think this is a good idea." Castiel said, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as his boyfriend clutched the empty jar in his fist with determination.

"Don't worry, Cas. I've done this before," Dean assured him with a grin, "Besides, you want fresh honey, don't you?"

"You're _stealing,_ Dean." The angel pressed, pursing his lips disapprovingly, "The bees worked very hard to make that honey—" He was interrupted by Dean leaning in and pressing a quick but meaningful kiss to his lips, all further protests dying in his throat.

"It's alright, Cas," Dean said soothingly against his lips, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb gently against the angel's cheek, "They're just bees."

Castiel sighed, "You know, when Sam suggested we should start doing things together as a couple, I didn't imagine our first activity would be committing a crime against nature."

Dean shrugged and shot him a devilish smirk, "Get used to it, Cas. You're dating a Winchester, after all."

And before Cas could fruitlessly protest further, Dean pecked his cheek and moved stealthily towards the beehive.

Castiel only hesitated a fracture of a second before he sent a silent warning to the bees: _B__eware, intruder threatening to infiltrate the hive..._

* * *

Fifteen minutes and twenty beestings later, an injured Dean glared at his boyfriend as they made their way to the nearest drug store, "_Seriously,_ Cas?"

The angel didn't even have the grace to appear ashamed as he shrugged and replied, "I had an obligation to warn the hive, Dean. I refuse to be an accomplice to your heinous crime."

Dean stiffened an eye roll and rubbed his swelling jaw, muttering, "I'm so kicking Sammy's ass for this..."

Castiel smiled and leaned over to press an apologetic kiss to Dean's cheek.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	19. Meet The Miltons

**Day 19:** In Formal Wear

**Title:** Meet The Miltons

**Summary:** Dean is nervous to finally meet his boyfriend Castiel's family. Cas isn't really helping (okay, so maybe he helps _some…_).

**Notes:** My first AU of the series! Of course, this is set in an all human universe. I'm also happy to announce that instead of this being an oneshot like the rest, this will be a _two_-shot. Next chapter will be continuation of this story.

* * *

Dean Winchester stood in front of the mirror and took in his reflection, trying to see the smart, handsome boyfriend Castiel deserved instead of the dumb greaser dressed in a monkey suit that he truly was. He failed miserably. With a frustrated sigh, he raked a hand through his hair and glanced at the clock, dread coiling in his stomach like a poisonous serpent. He knew any second now Castiel would wonder what was taking him so long and come up here to see if he was okay. He was considerate like that, Dean thought to himself with a smile and thought back to the day he had first met his boyfriend only seven months earlier...

_A hard, grueling day at work was weighing heavily on Dean's sore body. His muscles burned with exhaustion as he worked aggressively on some rusted Toyota, trying to finish as fast as he could so he could go back to his apartment and take a well-needed bath. It wouldn't quell the loneliness that plagued his heart, but it'd at least loosen up the knots in his back and wash off the grease and oil that caked his skin._

_Just putting the finishing touches on the truck, Dean felt actual hope swell in his chest of **finally** making it home at a reasonable hour for the first time in weeks (the garage had been slammed recently, and his boss—the gruff yet oddly endearing Bobby Singer—was too damn stubborn to hire more employees and instead worked the few he had to the bone). With a smile on his face, Dean inspected the Toyota thoroughly for the fifth time, leaning over the front to look closely under the hood—_

_When he heard the door open and slam shut, the smile was wiped from his face. Of course, he—being Dean—instantly thought the worst and didn't even bother to straighten up and turn around as he said in a curt, heated voice, "Dammit Gordon, I didn't take your fucking toolkit, okay? Now fuck off."_

_It was quiet for a moment, which made Dean immediately straighten because Gordon Walker was __**never**__ quiet for more than a second or two. And just to his misery, when he turned around, he discovered his guest was __**not**__ Dean's asshole of a co-worker. Instead it was..._

_Well, to put it frankly, it was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Toned, lean body (from what he could gather under that baggy trench coat, that is), a strong, muscular jaw, mussed up sex hair, blue bedroom eyes..._

_And then there was Dean—calloused, dirty, bowlegged Dean, who felt like a greased monkey in front of this beautiful, business suited God. _

_You know, he never really understood what God had against him. He guessed it was either his lack of faith or the fact that God was a spiteful, vindictive dick._

_Probably both._

_"I hate to disturb you," The man began, his voice so low and hoarse that it was like the guy had gargled gravel before he waltzed in here, "But I was wondering if you could help me with my car. It's been...problematic over the last week or so."_

_"Really?" Dean said, finally recovering his voice as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a rag, "What do you mean?"_

_For a moment, Dean had thought the man's gaze lingered on his lips before he met his gaze again, but he must have imagined it. The guy looked like a clean-cut example of an average joe—probably had a boring job as a tax account with a wife and kid at home._

_"My brother messed with it and won't tell me what he did," The man confessed almost sheepishly, the florescent lights above highlighting the faint blush that decorated his cheeks, "I know it's late, but I'd just gotten off of work, and I saw the sign on my way home, and I thought—"_

_"Dude, relax. It's cool," Dean assured him with a grin, cutting off the man's ramble, "Brothers are dicks. Hell, I used to pull that kind of shit on my little brother all the time." **Before he went off to college and became too busy for me,** he thought with spite before immediately regretting the bitter thought. He should be proud of Sammy—the little nerd got a full-ride to Stanford just on his smarts. And Dean? Dean didn't even finish high school._

_"I, uh...I was wondering if you could look at it real quick?" The man said hesitantly, breaking Dean out of his mental reverie, "I mean, if you aren't busy or anything."_

_"No, not at all," The words slipped from his lips before Dean's brain could catch up with his mouth, "I have time." _

_The man sighed out in relief and gave him an anxious smile before he stuck his hand out, "Castiel. Castiel Milton."_

_"Dean Winchester," He began to extend his hand, but after realizing it was coated in dried motor oil, he dropped it with an apologetic smile, "I'd shake your hand, but..."_

_"That would end unpleasant on my end." He finished with a smile—the kind of smile that sent both Dean's brain and heart stuttering._

_They just stared at each other for a moment—both too wrapped up in the task of taking in every detail of the other with intense fascination and thinly veiled desire. Finally, it was Dean who broke the silent with a cough, rubbing the back of his head nervously and saying, "Well, Cas...show me the damage." Castiel gave him a bemused look at the unintentional nickname, but before Dean could take it back and stutter out an awkward apology, a smile found its way on his face again, brighter than before and a lot less impersonal._

_Suffice to say, Dean made it home later than he'd first hoped, but he couldn't complain much with a newly acquired phone number resting safely in his pocket._

Now, months later, Dean was hiding upstairs like a coward and Castiel was entertaining his family members with a fancy buffet table and idle small talk as he waited patiently for Dean to grow a pair and come down to meet his family. His palms sweated at just the mere thought of their inevitable disapproval and Castiel's heart-breaking disappointment, and he once again entertained the idea of slipping out the window and avoiding this horrid nightmare of a night altogether. But of course, he could never do that to Cas.

He actually _loved_ the guy, for fuck's sake.

But when he heard a tentative knock on the door, he did start thinking of maybe hiding out in the closet. Though before he could reach a decision, Castiel opened the door.

"Dean, what's—" Cas cut off when he caught sight of him, a suddenly intake of breath stealing away his inquiry. Dean didn't know how he had invoked such a reaction from the man—he himself looked like an angel in his sharp, classy attire while Dean looked more like an ape in a flashy suit.

"Dean," Cas said with a breathtaking smile, slowly moving towards him until they were mere inches apart, "You look beautiful."

Dean scoffed, stiffening an eye roll as he glanced downward to stare at Castiel's polished shoes, "Oh please. My Impala is beautiful. I'm just..." He looked down at himself—at the expensive, tailored suit that felt as foreign on him as another person's skin, "Me."

"As I said," Cas whispered as he seized Dean's chin and gently forced him to meet his bright, adoring gaze, "Beautiful."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, glancing at the door with anxiety brewing in his system, "Well, let's get this show on the road." He cracked a wry smirk, "Any last warnings?" He meant it as a joke, but Castiel regarded his sarcastic inquiry with the upmost seriousness.

"My sister Anna wants to be your best friend, so she'll be glued to your side the entire evening," Castiel began with a sigh, "My brother Gabriel wants to know everything about our sex life—don't indulge him, or we will not _have_ a sex life any longer." Dean shuddered at the threat, "My cousin Raphael and uncle Zachariah will make low, demeaning comments about your profession as well as homophobic jests. Please, just ignore them. If they become too inappropriate, Michael has promised to escort them from the grounds personally. Michael, my eldest and most protective brother, will grill you with questions that range from what you have planned for the future to what your intentions are towards me. And my cousin Balthazar..." He swept his gaze over Dean's attire once more before flashing him an apologetic smile, "He will most likely attempt to grope you at every chance he receives. It's be best to just avoid him at all costs."

Dean felt his eyes widen, "God, they're going to eat me alive, aren't they?"

Cas rolled his eyes and swatted his side, "Don't be so dramatic. I've set out enough appetizers to quell their hunger for the evening."

Dean scoffed. "You're a fucking riot, Cas."

"Look, Dean, just lighten up," Castiel told him with a comforting smile, "You'll be fine. You're charming."

Dean gave him a skeptical look as he corrected flatly, "No, I'm _annoying."_

"I disagree," Cas argued, entwining their hands and somehow unknotting the clenching anxiety in Dean's chest, "Dean, you must know that it doesn't matter what they think of you. I'll love you regardless of their opinion. But don't worry," He kissed Dean's forehead chastely and his lips lingered, his next words breathed against Dean's skin, "They'll love you. Just like I do."

Dean sighed, letting Castiel's reassurances wash over him and drown out his fear. When he finally found at least an ounce of confidence, he looked at Cas with a fierce, brave expression, "Okay. Let's do this."

* * *

_**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite.**_


	20. Dirty Dancing

**Day 20: **Dancing

**Title: **Dirty Dancing

**Summary:** Dean teaches Cas to dance and maybe a little more later on.

**Notes: **Okay, so I just want everyone to know that I am a big freaking liar. I said that I would do a continuation of the last chapter in this update, but guess what I'm not doing? I'm sorry; I mean, I tried to write it, I really did. But I'm just so exhausted (rough day today), and every time I tried to write it to fit the prompt, it came out weird and abrupt_._ So I wrote a _different, _completely _unrelated_ oneshot that takes place in canon (or in my mind; same difference). By the way, if it wasn't common knowledge, _"Let it Be" _is by the Beatles and is owned by them.

* * *

"Look, it's easy, okay?" Dean said with a reassuring smile as he reached through his opened car window and turned up his radio, letting the soft beat of _"Let It Be"_ echo throughout the dark, silent field before turning back to his angel.

It was baffling to see an angel so much out of his element. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the isolated area, his hands clasped nervously together as he slightly swayed back and forth with anxiousness. The sight made Dean grin widely at him, causing Cas to scowl.

"This isn't funny, Dean." The angel stressed, but the hunter couldn't even take him seriously.

"Let's just get started." Dean began, pulling Cas toward him as he put one hand on Castiel's shoulder and the other on his waist.

When the angel just stood there stoically, Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, "Cas, it takes two to tango." He smirked and winked, "No pun intended."

Cas gave him a curious look at his joke but didn't comment, instead answering slowly with a small amount of indignation in his voice, "I, uh...don't know where to put my hands."

"Around my waist," Dean instructed before casting him a mock stern look, "But keep it above the belt, Buddy. Don't need you gettin' any ideas." As Castiel pressed his warm, strong palms against Dean's waist, the hunter couldn't help but shudder out of habit before reminding himself that he was here to _teach._ Playtime was for later.

"Okay," He said, slowly beginning to move his feet to the beat as Castiel fumbled after him, "Just relax and let me lead. Don't think about anything—not the moves, not your feet..." He leaned in, breath ghosting against the angel's cheek as he murmured, "Not the feel of my breath on your skin—just focus on the music. Just feel the beat." Castiel was mechanical in his movements, still putting too much thought into the process despite Dean's cautions. But as the song played on, the angel became more and more relaxed under Dean's firm grasp, the tension that locked up his body finally receding.

After the last note faded out, Dean let himself linger only a second before pulling away and stepping back, "See. That wasn't so hard."

"You were a good teacher." Castiel told him with a shy, almost hesitant smile.

"Well, I'm no Johnny Castle," Dean said, smirking slightly as he leaned in and adjusted Castiel's tie just for an excuse to touch him, "But I'm alright."

Cas gave him a curious look, "I don't—"

"I know," Dean said, tugging his tie forward until their lips were mere inches apart, "Now...how about we learn a lesson in a little dirty dancing?"

Cas cocked his head, seeming confused as he asked, "What, are we dancing in mud?" _Among other things,_ he thought to himself with a wicked smirk as he crashed their lips together.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	21. Adventures In Baking

**Day 21:** Cooking/Baking

**Title:** Adventures In Baking

**Summary:** Dean enlists Castiel's help in baking Sam a birthday cake. Soon, he comes to regret this decision.

**Notes:** As Dean discovers, Cas is no Paula Dean. Not at all.

* * *

"Okay, I sent Sam to the library," Dean said as Cas appeared into the motel room, "Got the stuff?" Cas held out the cake mix in response, causing the eldest Winchester to grin at him.

"Why are you baking Sam a cake again?" Cas asked as Dean took the box from him and started pulling out the other ingredients.

"It's his birthday." Dean told him in explanation, causing Cas to stare at him curiously with a tilted head.

When Dean didn't continue, Cas said, "And?"

"It's a human thing," Dean told him, waving his hand in dismissal as he rolled his sleeves up, "You always get a cake to put candles on it."

"Why candles?" Cas asked with puzzlement.

Dean shrugged, "So the birthday boy or girl can blow them out."

Cas seemed baffled at his answer, responding, "Why put candles on it if someone is going to blow them out?"

Dean sighed, giving him an exasperated look, "You know, explaining everything to you is getting old. Learn to just smile and nod."

"I'll smile when the situation is appropriate." Cas muttered and nodded goodbye to him, looking on the verge of flying off when Dean held out a hand and stopped him.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded with an arched eyebrow.

"I have no experience in baking," Castiel informed him, as if Dean thought they had Home Ec. up in Heaven, "Acquiring the ingredients is as far as my assistance can serve you."

"You don't need to be Paula Dean to cook." Dean told him with an eye-roll, clamping a hand around the angel's wrist and dragging him into the small kitchen, "Now come on, we're two grown men. Well..." He gave Cas a once over, "One grown man and a handicapped angel. I'm sure we can figure it out."

* * *

"Shit," Dean said, shifting through the silverware, "Cas, fly off and go get me a tablespoon, okay?"

Castiel's response was just a flutter of wings. He returned only a few seconds later. Dean was about to thank him when he glanced down and saw what he had in his hand, "Cas...that's just a spoon."

The angel tilted his head in confusion, "No, it's from a table at the restaurant across the street."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, "You stole this from a restaurant?"

"The customer wasn't using it." Castiel said defensively.

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

* * *

"Crack two eggs and don't let any shell get into the bowl." Dean told Castiel, giving the angel the carton as he turned around to turn on the oven. He realized his mistake when he heard two loud _SPLATS_. Dean didn't even have to turn around to know the angel just dropped them on the floor.

"Please tell me at least that was an accident." The hunter said in a sigh.

The angel paused before replying crossly, "I did what you said. None of the shell went into the bowl."

Dean groaned, "Goddammit, Cas."

* * *

"Now this is a wicked invention," Dean told him, setting the bowl down on the counter and sticking the electric mixer in it, "All you have to do is switch it on, and it does all the work for you."

He plugged it in and turned back around, eyes widening as Castiel flipped the on button, "_NO—_" He was cut off as chocolate goo splattered all over the kitchen.

* * *

Sam opened the door to find the motel room covered in a runny brown liquid, "Shit, what—" He stopped abruptly when he found Dean, covered in the liquid head-to-toe, waving a wooden spoon violently at Castiel.

"He sabotaged me!" Dean snapped in explanation. Sam took in his surroundings—the empty cake mix and chocolate covered bowl, the two broken eggs on the floor, Dean's thunderous expression and Castiel's bewildered gaze—as all the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.

Sam let out a roaring laugh and grinned at Castiel, "Dude, best present _ever_!"

"It's not funny," Dean told him, pouting as Cas broke out into a hesitant smile, "This was my _favorite_ shirt, dammit."

Once Sam finally got his laughter under control, he walked over and swiped his finger over the ruined bowl, coating it in chocolate. He licked his finger and nodded with appreciation, "Delicious." Sam smirked as he turned to his brother, "Wouldn't you agree, Dean?"

Birthday boy or not, Dean threw the wooden spoon at him.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	22. I Will Always Save You

**Day 22: **In Battle, Side-By-Side

**Title: **I Will Always Save You

**Summary: **When Dean finds himself at an opponent's mercy, Castiel drops by and helps him…with some unfortunate casualties (and heartfelt declarations).

**Notes: **The monster of the day is quite different than how it appears in lore. Dean discovers this firsthand (Also, sorry this is more hurt/comfort than actual fighting; I suck at writing action scenes).

* * *

Whoever made up the utter _lie_ that unicorns were these delicate, enchanting creatures that trotted on rainbows and shitted sunshine was going to get a _major_ ass-kicking when Dean was finished...if he survived long enough, that is.

But right now—with his lungs becoming heavier and heavier and head feeling lighter and lighter as blood poured from his wounds—that possibility was becoming slimmer with each violent second. Dean let out a shuddering breath as he gripped his knife tighter and charged the deranged beast, stealing a severe gash at the unicorn's neck and hearing the high-pitched, inhuman howl in response. Its red eyes flared as the monster jerked around and caught his side with its deadly horn.

"Shit!" He cursed, feeling blood run through his fingers as he gripped his open wound. He stumbled and nearly dropped his knife, giving the unicorn the perfect opportunity to come in for the kill. _I'll never hear the end of this in Hell,_ he groaned to himself as he watched the beast lunge at him—

Somehow a ruffle of wings registered in his mind over the adrenaline thrumming in his ears as Castiel suddenly appear between him and the unicorn, giant shadows of wings showering Dean in utter darkness. He watched with dazed horror as the unicorn stopped abruptly just before it hit him, smacking into the invisible barrier that was one of Castiel's wings.

Dean heard the painful sound of beams of energy shattering as the horn struck the invisible wing, coating the unicorn in raw power and making it hiss in pain. The sound threatened to burst Dean's eardrums as the twisted, ungodly form of a horse stumbled back, finally showing a rare moment of actual weakness. Not wasting an opportunity, Dean grabbed the knife and flung himself onto the beast, driving the sharp blade into the monster's heart.

With a guttural shriek, the unicorn's pulsing body finally stilled. Dean sighed and dragged himself off of the dead body, a hysterical giggle of relief bubbling in his throat.

"So I officially _hate_ unicorns now." The hunter declared wryly, turning around to face Castiel...

And paled once he saw what the angel's little wing-stunt caused. The angel was writhing on the ground, the most severe degree of pain twisting his usually powerful, almighty features.

"Cas!" He exclaimed, terror causing another surge of adrenaline to shoot through his exhausted body and giving him enough strength to stumble to his feet and run over to the angel. When he reached him, he immediately dropped to his knees and pulled Castiel's head into his lap, staring down at the sweat-drenched face with utter concern.

"C'mon, Buddy, talk to me." Dean said desperately, fumbling in his pocket for his phone to call Sam. The angel's eyes suddenly flared open as a trembling hand shot up and grabbed Dean's arm, still somehow possessing enough strength to keep the hunter locked in place.

"Don't," Cas gritted out, his deep voice even more hoarse and raw than usual, "Dean, don't. I'll be fine. I just—need a few minutes."

"Cas, you need _help_." Dean growled, "Just let me call Sam—" Castiel silenced him when he pressed a single finger to Dean's temple. As soon as their skin made contact, all pain drained from Dean's system, his screaming muscles and severe wounds suddenly healed in a matter of a millisecond. Gratitude flooded his veins before it was quickly replaced with fury.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean demanded through gritted teeth, clutching onto the angel as if he were able to keep the life from leaving his limp body, "Don't use your powers to heal _me,_ goddammit. Heal yourself, for fuck's sake!"

"Your survival is above my own." Castiel told him, a weak smile tugging at his lips as he added, "I would think after so many time of sacrificing myself for you, that would be clear."

Dean shook his head stubbornly, declaring firmly, "Look, some other guilt-ridden hunter with daddy issues can stop the apocalypse, okay? You—"

"I don't save you just to ensure humanity's preservation," The angel interrupted quietly, blue eyes still so bright even when they were filled with so much pain, "Not entirely."

Dean furrowed his brow, staring at him with a confused expression, "Cas, I don't—"

"I just believe the world would be an empty place without Dean Winchester," The angel said quietly with a soft, lingering look, but before Dean could even _think_ to respond, he swallowed hard and added flatly, "Don't worry; I will not remain incapacitated long. My grace—though weakened by the direct blow—will repair and replenish itself eventually. It might take time—perhaps hours, or days, or even weeks, depending on the severity of the wound—but I will return to full health." At this piece of information, Dean let out a relived breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"But seriously, Cas," Dean said sternly once he reigned in his utter relief, staring at the angel with a hardened look of determination in his green eyes, "I can take care of myself. You worry about you, and I'll worry about me."

"You never worry about yourself," Cas pointed out in a scoff, and Dean hated how right he was, "You put your brother, your friends, and even innocent strangers before your own safety, Dean. Why can't someone else return the favor?"

"Because," Dean said hesitantly, finding himself unable to hold the angel's intense gaze as his eyes dropped to stare at his trench coat, "I'm just...me." _I'm not worth saving. _

The cheating bastard must have read his unfiltered thoughts because suddenly he felt a hand capture his chin and tilt his head upward. Dean sighed and opened his mouth to tell Cas to just drop it—to share this disgusting chick flick moment with someone else who _didn't_ pointedly avoid heart-to-hearts like it was the flu—when he felt chapped lips cover his own.

Despite all logic in his mind that was screaming for him to immediately pull back before he did something stupid like confess his big, gay feelings for the angel (and gain yet another thing he would eventually fuck up), Dean found himself melting into the kiss, threading his fingers through Cas' hair and sliding his tongue into the other's open mouth.

When they finally broke apart, Dean was left stunned and utterly breathless, his heart thundering in his ears and swimming in his throat. It had been a long time since just a simple kiss had affected him so significantly, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"I will _always_ save you, Dean Winchester," Cas declared, his voice holding nothing but sincerity and certainty, "Even if it means one day, I may be unable to save myself."

Dean swallowed hard and answered in the only way he could display his true feelings while still keeping his macho ego intact: with his lips.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	23. Be There For Me

**Day 23: **Arguing

**Title: **Be There For Me

**Summary: **After a year apart, Dean confront Cas for abandoning him for Heaven, provoking a startling reaction and fur

**Notes: **This takes place during 6.03 "The Third Man." This will also be a _two-_shot since the next day of the challenge is "Making Up Afterwards."

* * *

Dean should have known better than to let Sam go out and leave him all alone with the angel.

"You're angry with me." He heard Cas state plainly, feeling the heat of that burning blue eyed gaze drilling into his back. Dean locked his jaw and shrugged, unable to turn around and even _look_ at the angel.

"Dean, that wasn't a response." The angel pointed out, his voice closer now as the sound of his nearing footsteps matched Dean's pounding heart.

"It doesn't matter," Dean said in a sigh, walking away from him in a vain attempt to avoid the warmth the Castiel's body brought, "The gang's back together again. All we need is a mystery van and a pot-smoking dog, and we'll be all set." Dean didn't even have to turn around to see Castiel's confusion.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two—the awkwardness that poisoned the air enough to make Dean fidget. He hated how tense it had become between him and Cas—after all, he was practically best buddies with the angel over that whole apocalypse ordeal—but he knew there were no ways to solve it. Well...no way Dean was comfortable with.

"If this is about Sam, I—"

"It's not about _Sam,_" Dean snapped before he could stop himself, suddenly furious that the angel didn't even understand what he did _wrong_—how much it had _hurt_ Dean when he just abandoned him right when he needed the guy more than ever, "It's about—" He cut himself off, reigning in his anger before he could blurt out something that would only make things worse between them.

"Look, just forget it," Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to keep his voice as gruff and flat as possible, "None of it matters now. You're here." _But for how long, I'll never know, _he finished in his mind with a heavy heart.

"Dean, I don't understand," The angel declared in a labored sigh, as if Dean's feelings were such a damn _inconvenience_ to him, "If you have a conflict with me, we should just confront it before it interferes with the case."

Dean scoffed, "So when it involves one of your angel buddies, you care about the _case._"

"When it involves the weapons of Heaven, _yes._" Castiel snapped, exasperated annoyance evident in his rising voice, "Now I don't have time for this childishness."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, well...you don't have time for anybody, do you?" He had meant his words to sound scornful and bitter, but they came out only weak and _pathetic._ _Jesus Christ,_ he grumbled to himself, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration, _apple pie life has made me soft. Next thing you know, I'll actually be pulling the chick flick moment crap on __**Sam**__ instead of the other way around._

He heard a ruffle of wings and rolled his eyes, a part of him relieved at his departure while another part ached at the loss. Dean hated the conflict that arose in his chest at the presence of the angel, hated how even after he _abandoned_ him, he still cared for the feathery freak. Actually, "cared" was a significant understatement—

"_Dean._" Castiel said, suddenly appearing a foot in front of him.

"_Christ,_" Dean exclaimed, jumping back and stumbling into the sharp corner of the sofa, "Cas, don't _do_ that. I mean, I know your people skills are rusty, but _seriously_—"

"You're resentful," Cas stated flatly, blue eyes so deep and intense, they caused a lump to build in Dean's throat, "_Why?_"

"You _left me_," Dean accused in a soft, broken voice, "I was there barely hanging on by a thread back there, and you _left_ me to go up there and play fucking _sheriff."_

"So then you decided to play _house."_ Cas shot back, a flicker of actual emotion flitting across his cold, stoic expression, "Now tell me what was I to _do,_ Dean?"

"Be there for me," He answered weakly, his eyes burning as he looked at the bright, beautiful angel, "Why won't anyone just _be_ _there_ for me? For _once_ in my life, why can't anyone just _stay?_"

Castiel didn't respond at first. His gaze remained as steady as always, but his features twisted, his face darkening in what almost seemed like...sorrow? Regret?

Dean swallowed hard and glanced away, taking a step back and scratching the back of his head insecurely, "I, uh...I'm gonna go check and see, uh—see if Sam's made it back yet." Cas just stood there—frozen in place like a beautiful yet cold statue that oozed grace and detachment—as Dean turned and made his way to the door, the urge to escape this insufferable environment too profound to ignore.

His fingertips barely grazed the doorknob when Cas spoke.

"Do you think it was easy?"

Dean froze, a chill running down his spine at Castiel's soft, tempestuous voice, "Excuse me?"

"Returning to Heaven, leaving you," The angel clarified breathlessly, his gaze forcing Dean to slowly to back around to face him, "Do you think I _wanted_ to go back there, to a place that held the very beings that had previously wished for my head on a silver platter?"

Dean regarded him with a curious gaze, brow furrowed, "Then...why'd you go back?"

"I had a _duty,_ Dean," Castiel told him simply, casting his gaze downward as he closed the gap between them, "An obligation to my fellow brethren—to _God,_ more like—to be the saving grace of my race and _lead_ my kind to The Lord's greatest gift: free will. How could I refuse such an important responsibility?"

"You didn't owe them _anything_." Dean told him, though he wasn't sure if that was even true, "You saved the world; you paid your dues."

Cas smiled, but it was a sour sort of smile—the sort of smile that tasted bittersweet, "A man's job is never done, Dean. You of all people should understand that."

Dean sighed, raking a hand through his hair, "I mean...I get it, Cas, I really do. But...couldn't you have at least visited? Don't you _care _about—"

"_Of course_ I care about you, Dean," Castiel snapped harshly, eyes darkening at the mere implication of otherwise, "What, you think I had enough _strength_ to visit you at your _new_ life? You think I could stand watching you with _her?_" The last word was hissed in both scorn and envy, a deep scowl playing on the angel's lips at the mention of Lisa.

"What?" Dean demanded in astonishment, "What does _Lisa_ have anything to do with—"

"She has _everything_ to do with this," Cas growled, his escalating voice rattling Dean's ribcage, "Because you love _her._ You were content with spending the rest of your life with _her._"

"_So?_" Dean demanded harshly, throwing his hands up in frustration and confusion.

"Dean Winchester, you are an _idiot._" Castiel exclaimed sourly before disappearing with the sound of wings.

Dean sighed and flopped down on the couch, burying his face in his hands and trying to understand how _Lisa_—who Cas had never even _met_—had anything to do with this. Why would Cas care about her, of all people?

_I need better friends,_ he groaned to himself, hoping Sam would hurry the hell back so he wouldn't have to think about this anymore.

It wasn't until days later—after Dean and Castiel had silently agreed to pretend their confrontation didn't happen—did it finally occur to him what Cas meant by those words.


	24. Be There For Me (Part 2)

**Day 24: **Making Up Afterwards

**Title: **Be There For Me (Part 2)

**Summary: **Dean finally grows a pair and confronts Cas about their heated fight that left things only tense and awkward between them.

**Notes: **Obviously, you know from the title that this is a continuation from the last chapter, but I just thought I'd waste time by reminding you again.

* * *

It was took two weeks before Dean finally caved and decided to stop ignoring the issue and be a fucking adult about this.

"Cas, we need to talk." Dean said with a sigh, looking up at the stained motel ceiling and trying to will Castiel to put his pissing match with Raphael on pause and get down here, "Please, it's urgent." He waited patiently for twenty minutes and then waited _im_patiently for another ten.

"Cas, I mean it," The hunter stressed tightly, forcing his tightening fists to unclench at his sides, "Get your feathery ass down here _pronto_. I'm not kidding."

He was replied with only frustrating silence.

"You get down here right now or my new nickname for you will be _Ass_tiel," Dean warned because dammit, he was allowed to be a little childish every now and then too, "And trust me, with the cold shoulder you gave Sam for that better part of a year, it'll stick."

_Okay, _he thought to himself as he glanced around the empty motel room with barely contained frustration, _looks_ _like Asstiel is playing hard ball_…which only gave Dean one option:

Beg like a little bitch.

"Dammit, _fine, _okay?" Dean snapped in exasperation, running a hand through his hair and blurting out indignantly, "I'm _sorry,_ Cas. Please...just let me apologize to you—" He cut himself off at the sound of ruffled feathers coming from behind him. He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, stating with bitter mirth, "Oh you are an _asshole."_

When he turned around, he was slightly annoyed to find Castiel staring at him expectantly with hard, unreadable blue eyes, "I may have not been on Earth for some time, but even I know that is _not_ the start of a formal apology."

"Well, when did you get so saucy?" Dean asked wryly with an arched eyebrow, and he counted it as a victory when a corner of Castiel's mouth twitched as if he were trying his hardest to stiffen a smile.

"Dean, I don't have time for our usual wordplay," Cas informed him coolly, his brief amusement evaporating as the angel switched back into business mode (also known as 'massive dick mode,' in Dean's mind), "If you're going to fabricate an apology, you must hurry. You're on a time limit."

"You know, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Dean reminded him with a tight smile, earning a confused tilt of the angel's head.

"Nor do I have time for your strange references." Cas added slowly once he discovered the mirth and mockery in Dean's gaze, "Get to the point of your summoning, Dean."

Dean nodded, reluctantly accepting that their witty banter was over and the dreaded chick flick moment finally begun, "Fine, look..." There had been so many questions and explanations buzzing around in his brain begging to be spewed, so where were they now? He huffed silently to himself, running a hand through his hair and deciding to just start with the first issue that flitted across his mind.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as if the action would cease the butterflies that swarmed violently in his abdomen, "Okay, there's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to throw it out there: how long have you had a hard-on for me exactly?" _Wow, way to be fucking delicate, Dean,_ he heard his inner Sam scold (he didn't know which was worse: how he had phrased that in the crudest, most insensitive way possible when discussing a fragile topic with a powerful, kick-ass angel that could kill him in a half a second flat, or the fact that he had an inner _Sam_).

He watched as the angel's body stiffened at his blunt words, his blue eyes for once unable to hold Dean's gaze as they dropped to the floor. Dean had to admit, it felt sorta good to make _him_ uncomfortable for a change, but he did feel a little guilty that it had to happen under these tense, awkward circumstances.

A long pause followed Dean's question—so long, Dean was surprised the angel hadn't left the coop yet. Finally, Dean had to clear his throat and take a step towards him, saying quietly, "Cas..."

"I can't pinpoint the exact date and location," Castiel said flatly, his voice utterly emotionless even when he spoke of such an emotional matter, "I think it began when I first touched your broken, twisted soul in Hell, still so bright and beautiful despite the horrors you went through—the horrors you _committed_ yourself, near the end." He sighed, "I had thought it was just a mere fascination at first. After all, you were the Righteous Man," The title caused a bit of nostalgia to taint Dean's heart and Castiel's lips, "You were easily known as the most fascinating being in existence by all creatures. But when you saved that town on Halloween, I...I began to suspect it was something deeper. Something more...profound."

Dean soaked in every word like a sponge, memories flitting across his eyes as he relived every moment Castiel's stare lingered too long, every time Castiel disregarded Dean's personal space despite his many lectures and reprimands. As the last puzzle piece finally clicked into place, revealing this large portrait of clarity, Dean wondered how he couldn't have seen it sooner. Hell, the angel had even said he did everything—rebel against Heaven, fall from grace, kill his own kind—for Dean. Not Dean _and_ Sam, not the free will philosophy, not even just for the sake of rooting for the underdog...

Just for _Dean_, the man he never questioned and followed blindly without hesitation.

Cas was right; Dean was a fucking _idiot._

"And when were you gonna let me in on this slumber party secret?" Dean demanded, impressed how steady his voice was.

Cas shrugged half-heartedly, "Forever?"

"_What?"_ Dean exclaimed in astonishment and anger, "_Dude_…not cool."

The angel scoffed, his patience finally wearing thin as he snapped, "Why does any of this _matter,_ Dean? You don't return my affection. You don't lo..." He seemed to choke on the word, grinding his teeth together as he forced the straggled statement out, "You don't _love_ me."

Dean didn't know if he could agree with that declaration or not.

They were silent for a beat, Cas too overcome with shame and despair while Dean was mulling over Cas' words. The angel's answers had provoked another question from Dean's mind, but he didn't know if he even wanted to know the answer.

"If I had asked," Dean began hesitantly, his throat suddenly feeling like rough sandpaper as he dragged the reluctant words out of his throat, "Would you have stayed, with me?"

Castiel hesitated, sadness and remorse swimming in those big blue eyes, before he replied quietly, "No."

Immediately, Dean felt the small flame of hope in his chest go out.

"Right, of course." Dean said tightly, his voice as cold and brittle as he wished he felt, "You _love_ me, but you don't want to be _stuck with _me—"

"Dean, in the beginning, I was in charge of ensuring your survival." Castiel cut him off smoothly, stepping forward and frowning slightly as Dean took a step backwards to keep the gap between them.

Dean felt confusion sweep through his body, "What does that have _anything_ to do with this?"

"Because that was when you were just my charge and I was just another 'dick with wings,'" Castiel answered, smugness and even an ounce of wryness coloring his usually deep, monotone voice, "It was before I became your friend."

Dean gave him a questioning look, "_And?_"

"By letting you go and allowing you to live with the Braedens, I was ensuring your happiness as well as your survival," Castiel told him softly, "That way, you were happy and out of hunting, Ben received the father figure he deserves, and Lisa had the rare privilege of owning the heart of the most brave, valiant man I had ever met. See," He smiled, but it was hollow and aching, "Everyone wins."

"You didn't." Dean pointed out quietly.

"I'm an angel, Dean," Castiel scoffed, a resigned numbness in his voice that broke Dean's heart, "You know I don't matter."

And that was when Dean snapped.

Suddenly, Dean stepped forward and wadded his hand in Castiel's silk blue tie, yanking the angel closer and finally tasting those tantalizing chapped lips. Cas resisted for the first few seconds before he became boneless against the hunter, opening his mouth and letting Dean explore his mouth. Kissing Cas was different than kissing Lisa, he was quick to discover. Lisa's mouth was soft and plush, the natural sweetness of her lips addicting yet strangely disappointing while Castiel's lips were salty and firm, the complexity of flavor in every crevice of his mouth enough to make Dean content with spending hours just tasting all of what the angel had to offer. It was different, but...nice. Real nice. A lot more nice than Dean had ever imagined (_yes,_ he had imagined kissing his male best friend who was also a flippin' _angel _once or twice before; it wasn't something he was proud of).

"Don't," Cas said suddenly once they finally broke apart for air, "Please…don't do this if this is only about you repaying me."

"It's not," Dean assured him, startled at how _true_ it was, "Cas, I...You get me. You don't just _tolerate_ my hunting lifestyle; you _embrace_ it. You understand that this isn't just a hobby that I can quit whenever I feel bored or defeated. It's my goddamn _life._ I mean, Lisa could never understand that. I mean, she _tried,_ but she could never _truly_ understand, you know?" Damn, he was so ducking terrible at trying to explain his feelings. Maybe he should have listened better when Sam bitched and whined all throughout the years for notes.

"What are you trying to say, Dean?" Cas asked quietly.

"Oh come on, Cas..." Dean groaned as he glanced down at the floor, blood rushing to his cheeks as he shifted his feet in discomfort, "Don't make me say it." _Not yet._

"Okay," Cas said, tilting Dean's chin upward so he could briefly capture the hunter's lips once again, "For now, you can start with the other three words." Dean was confused for a split second before his meaning sunk in.

"Is it 'Fuck you, Asstiel?'" Dean mocked, his knowing smile betraying his innocent expression.

"_Dean._"

"Fine," Dean rolled his eyes, "I. Am. Sorry."

"Your sincerity could use some work," Cas muttered, causing a grin to break out on the hunter's face, "But A for effort, I suppose."

Dean smiled before something occurred to him. Clearing his throat, he glanced away and asked hesitantly, "So, uh...is my time limit up yet?"

"It's been up for seven minutes," Castiel told him with a shrug, "In fact, I'm missing an important meeting to discuss war strategies."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "Sounds important. You should probably join in on that." He tried to keep the disappointment from dripping into his voice but failed miserably.

"It is," The angel agreed before stealing another kiss from the hunter as he mumbled against Dean's lips, "But that's what second-in-commands are for."

Dean grinned and pulled the angel into another kiss, hoping that maybe—just _maybe_—Castiel would be the first person that actually stayed. He knew it was a hollow sort of hope, but a hope nonetheless.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	25. Safe Eye-Sex

**Day 25:** Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

**Title:** Safe Eye-Sex

**Summary:** Basically Sam is just tired of Dean and Cas' shit and gets really sassy about it.

**Notes:** Best summary ever, I know. But it's true.

* * *

_Are they done yet,_ Sam wondered, briefly looking up from his laptop to check on the hunter and angel and grimacing at what he saw, _nope. Guess not._

Dean and Castiel had been just staring at each other for an ungodly (and non-platonic, quite frankly) amount of time. So long, in fact, that Sam had even forgotten what they'd been talking about (well...what _he_ himself was talking about. All the hunter and angel contributed to the conversation were brief longing looks at each other and thinly veiled flirting).

"So," Sam prompted awkwardly, glancing back down at his laptop and trying not to drown in the vast amount of sexual tension in the air, "In just a decade, six people have died in that house."

At Sam's voice, Dean broke out of his pathetic daze, glancing over at him coolly as if he hadn't been molesting a friggin' _Angel of The Lord_ with his leering gaze, "Sounds suspicious. There anything on how?"

"No," Sam responded, "All different circumstances. But they did all die in the attic."

"Attic," Dean repeated before a mischievous grin lit up on his features, switching his gaze to rest (surprise, surprise) on the angel, "Hey, Cas, spell attic." The angel gave him a bemused look while Sam slapped a hand over his face and groaned at his brother's immature nature.

"Okay, Dean," Cas replied warily, noticing the dangerous glint in the hunter's gaze but never being able to refuse him, "A-T-T-I-C." Dean busted into laughter, earning a confused tilt of the head from Cas and an annoyed eye roll from his brother.

"What are you, ten?" Sam asked crossly, causing Dean to just roll his eyes.

"Come on, that was funny." The hunter told him, but Sam just gave him a disapproving expression.

"Dean, I don't understand," Castiel said, staring at Dean with pure puzzlement in his blue eyes, "Why is spelling so humorous all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, Cas," Dean dismissed with a chuckle, taking a few steps forward and clasping the angel on the back, "It's a human thing."

"No, it's an _immaturity_ thing." Sam muttered but with one glance up, he knew his retort fell on deaf ears. Dean's hand on Castiel's back remained as the two, just a mere foot away between them, locked gazes. With distaste, he watched as his brother's eyes darkened in interest, a small portion of his tongue becoming visible as it swiped over his bottom lip. Disturbingly, he glanced over and saw Castiel swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Damn, Dean, at least buy a condom." Sam mumbled just for the sake of retaining at least some sanity, "You know what they taught us in school: safe sex." _Safe eye-sex, that is..._

* * *

**_Author's Note: I love Sassy!Sam as much as I love Cockblocking!Sam (which is to say a lot). Review, follow, favorite_**


	26. Drowning In Blue

**Day 26: **Getting Married

**Title: **Drowning In Blue

**Summary:** On their wedding day, Dean is wracked with nerves. Castiel soothes him in the only way he can think of.

**Notes: **I haven't really looked over this since I have to go to bed early tonight, so sorry for any mistakes. I'll look over it tomorrow and edit out any errors.

* * *

_Deep breaths,_ Dean instructed himself, trying to calm his racing heart, _in and out, in and out. _Unable to succeed in his soothing method, he looked down and fiddled with his cufflinks, ignoring Sam's amused look casted his way.

"God, Dean, you look like you're about to shit yourself." Sam murmured in his ear, causing Dean to roll his eyes and scowl.

"You know, I'm starting to regret letting you be my best man." Dean told him lowly, too quiet for any of the guests to hear, "You're just lucky Cas wouldn't let me make you flower girl."

"Shut up," Sam said with a chuckle, "You wouldn't dare choose someone else to stay by your side while you stutter out your vows and make a complete fool of yourself."

"I dunno about that, Sammy," Dean replied, smirking, "Charlie was a _very _close second."

Sam arched an eyebrow, "Then who would've led the blushing bride?"

Dean shrugged in silent agreement, finding his attention on their brotherly banter starting to waver as his green eyes glanced over at the entrance. Sam must have noticed the sudden tension in Dean's body because his teasing tone dropped, "Seriously, calm down, Dean. I mean," His voice suddenly changed from concerned to worried in half a second flat, "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"Of course not," Dean barked, actually offended at the ludicrous notion, "I love Cas. I would never do that to him."

Sam let out a relieved sigh, "Good. I was afraid I would have to hold the bridezilla back when you say 'I don't.'"

Dean scoffed, "Cas isn't a bridezilla."

"I was talking about Charlie..." His serious response startled a laugh out of Dean, the nervousness finally starting to dissolve in his abdomen. Though his grin was wiped off his face when he heard Kevin's cello start to play and the guests excitedly shushing each other.

Dean clasped his hands together tightly as he followed everyone else's gaze to the door, sucking in a quick breath as it creaked open.

"All rise for the angelic groom," Charlie said in her most professional voice (aka the one she used when she and Dean would sneak off and go LARPing for the weekend), grinning as all the guests stumbled to their feet. When Castiel finally came into view, Dean felt his breath catch in his throat. He'd like to think his observation was ironic instead of corny when he thought Cas looked like an angel, but let's be honest, Dean Winchester was a sap at heart; he _definitely_ meant the latter).

He was dressed in an all-white suit, his skin practically glowing against the ivory fabric. Somehow Charlie convinced him to shave the night before, and while Dean loved how Castiel's stubble would rake against his cheek when they kissed, the clean-cut look really did justice to his strong jaw. But his expression...yes, his expression was the best part.

The blinding grin on his face made Dean's heart melt into a puddle. He just looked so...happy. So unlike the serious, stoic angel with a stick up his ass that Dean had met.

Kevin played his own composition as Charlie looped her arm through Castiel's and led him down the aisle (because the "here comes the bride" melody made Dean feel like he was going to his own funeral). As the angel neared close, Dean found himself growing more and more anxious, the butterflies in his stomach becoming more like angry, swarming bees with every step forward. When Castiel finally reached his side, Dean could barely hear anything over the pounding of his heart.

Castiel seemed to notice his buzzing nerves and tilted his head questioningly at him, and Dean felt like a truly _awful_ person. The angel seemed so _calm_ while Dean was practically sweating bullets.

A corner of Castiel's mouth twisted upward in barely recognized amusement, and Dean was about to demand what the hell was so damn hilarious when the angel leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean's ear, _"I love you."_ He whispered in Enochian, and Dean felt all nervousness drain from his body. With a bashful smile, Dean entwined their hands together and faced Garth (who apparently became a certified priest over the internet; Dean didn't really look into his claim because seriously, who gave a fuck?).

"Ladies and gentlemen..." Garth began, but Dean could barely hear him. The rest of the world bled away as he glanced over and locked eyes with Castiel, finding himself drowning in blue.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	27. A Little Slice From Heaven

**Day 27: **On One of Their Birthdays

**Title: **A Little Slice from Heaven

**Summary: **Cas gives Dean the best present _ever._

**Notes: **_You_ get some fluff, _you_ get some fluff, _everybody gets some fluff! _…I'm sorry, I'm just trying to make an Oprah pun. Anyway, this is a little abrupt and not as well-quality as the others, but that's because I wrote this in, like, fifteen minutes and barely looked over it twice (so sorry for any mistakes!). I just started school again, so I've been forced to go to bed earlier than I've become accustomed to.

* * *

Dean's track record with birthdays was never really one to be envied. Hell, the only birthday that didn't end in a total _disaster _was the one where he turned sixteen.

His dad had been out hunting the latest monster of the week that day, so Dean had taken Sammy out to the diner to celebrate. They devoured a whole apple pie in half an hour, teasing and laughing at each other like they were never able to do when Dad was around (after all, John wanted them to act like _soldiers; _not children. And back then, Dean followed everything that damned man said with a blind sense of loyalty and devotion). Once it became dark, they left the diner and drove the Impala out into an empty, dried up cornfield. They laid on top of the hood and gazed up at the stars until daybreak, Sam rattling off all the constellations and Dean pretending he could see the wild images his brother described. It was a fond memory but also a very private one. Hell, Dean hadn't even told Cas, and he was in love with the angel (though he would never admit that last part aloud _ever _because he had a "No Chick Flick Moment" reputation to uphold).

So when Dean heard the familiar ruffle of wings and turned only to see Castiel holding out a freshly baked apple pie that stirred up the memory both in his mind and heart, Dean had been confused.

"Why?" Dean asked simply, causing the angel to tilt his head.

"It is customary for someone to be presented a cake or similar form of pastry on their celebratory day of birth, is it not?" Castiel said, holding the steaming pie out to him with a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Shit, that's today, isn't it?" Dean said, astonished as he cut a glance to the calendar to confirm that it was in fact his birthday.

"You make this?" Dean asked as he stepped towards the pie yet reached for the angel, lightly brushing his calloused knuckles up and down Castiel's chest.

Cas shivered slightly, but his stoic expression never cracked, "If by made, you mean 'angel mojo'd,' then yes."

Dean huffed and smiled at him, "Awesome. You wanna wait for Sammy before digging into this puppy?"

"It's food, Dean. Not a canine," Cas corrected him, "And yes, we should wait until Sam comes back from his trip to the library. Although…" A glint of something unreadable—something _mischievous _flickered across his eyes, "I would like for you to just try a slice."

Dean nodded and shrugged, "No protests here." In a blink of an eye, Dean and Cas were sitting at the table, a piece of sliced pie presented on a clean, fancy-looking plate resting in front of Dean.

"Slow down, Tiger." Dean joked wryly, picking up the silver fork and slicing him off a sliver. He usually consumed a slice in one bite, but he'd already decided he was going to _savor _this. After all, _Cas _had made it. This was a pretty big deal.

As soon as the piece landed on his tongue, Dean felt himself be dragged back into a memory—

"_You're a pig, you know that?" Sammy scoffed with a shit-eating grin as Dean stuffed his cheeks with the succulent treat._

"_Shut up, Bitch." He tried to say, but it came out muddled and incoherent._

_Sammy laughed, and Dean felt a grin stretched over his puffed out cheeks…_

"What the _fuck?_" Dean demanded, gasping as he felt himself be dropped back into reality.

"Do you not like it?" Cas said, his voice soft and hurt.

"What just happened to me?" Dean asked, removing his horrified gaze from the pie to the angel.

"I implanted a mental trigger into the pie that only _you _can see," Cas explained, "Every time you take a bite, the enhanced taste triggers a specific happy recollection you associate the pie with and lets you relive your past happiness as if it were happening all over again."

"Cas, that's…" Dean found himself at a loss for words, too overcome with swirling emotions of utter love and endearment for the man sitting in front of him to even convey his thoughts.

When Dean didn't continue, Cas cocked his head, leaning in to ask in a low, worried voice, "Dean, did I do something wrong?"

Dean responded by dragging the angel into a bruising kiss.

* * *

"Dude, this is _incredible," _Sam exclaimed, shoveling his slice of pie into his mouth, "What _is_ this?"

Cas smiled and looked over at Dean, replying quietly,"Dean-flavored pie." At his words, Sam spewed his half-chewed pie from his mouth, coughing and wheezing violently with a mixture of pain and utter _horror _painted on his red face.

It took Dean a second to realize what Sam was thinking…

"Dammit Sam, get your head outta the gutter!"

* * *

_**Author's Note: Follow, favorite, review.**_


	28. The Mischievous Mission

**Day 28: **Doing Something Ridiculous

**Title: **The Mischievous Mission

**Summary: **Cas does something illegal. For once, Dean doesn't approve (at first…).

**Notes: **I'm not overly fond with this chapter, but hopefully you'll tend to disagree.

* * *

"Dean, do you love me?" The angel asked as he suddenly appeared in front of the television, causing to Dean jump back and immediately reach for his knife. Once he discovered it was only his boyfriend, the tension left his body as Dean retracted his hand, glaring at him, "Jesus, Cas, stop _doing_ that. Seriously, at this rate, a heart attack's gonna kill me before the fucking _Apocalypse _does."

_"Dean,"_ Cas said again, his voice more firm this time, finally gaining Dean's attention, "Do you _love_ me?"

"Yeah, of course," Dean said, feeling somewhat offended at the question, "I mean, do you really have to _ask?_"

Cas beamed at his answer, a mischievous glint swirling in those bright blue eyes, "Good. Now—with that in mind—I have one _small _request..."

* * *

"Cas, this is insane," Dean whispered as he reluctantly followed Cas down the hall of some animal research lab in Utah, "And _illegal_, I might add."

The angel scoffed quietly, throwing a pointed look over his shoulder, "Since when have you ever cared about the law?"

"I care about the law..." Dean mumbled, "Well...enough to avoid getting caught."

"This will only take a second," Cas declared, finally stopping at a door, its features indistinct in the veil of darkness, "I need you to pick these locks. I've tried to just fly in there, but something's blocking me."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "So you want me to break into this securely locked door—securely locked for probably a damn good reason, I might add—to face whatever the hell's being trapped behind it?"

"Yes," Cas said, sounding almost exasperated, "What part of this plan did you not grasp the understanding of?"

"Uh, _all of it._" Dean said, raking a hand over his hair, "Seriously, Cas, if it's something powerful enough to block a friggin' Angel of The Lord, maybe it needs to stay locked up."

"They will cause no harm to us, Dean." Castiel assured him earnestly, like he actually _believed_ the crazy shit that was flying out his mouth.

"They, huh?" Dean repeated sourly, rolling his eyes, "Great. That's great. Now tell me, Cas, when were you going to tell me the whatever-the-hell-we're-breaking-free is a _'they'_ rather than an _'it?'_"

Cas gave him a confused look, saying slowly, "Never. Unnecessarily explaining everything to you was never a part of my agenda."

"For fuck's sake, Cas." Dean groaned, pressing his palma to his eye-sockets as if the action would make this screwed up situation go away, "Look, at least tell me _they_ won't decapitate me as soon as I open this door, okay?"

Cas looked at him like he was a small child saying a monster was in his closet, almost seeming like he was stiffening an eye roll, "_Of course_ they won't, Dean."

"Oh well, excuse _me_ for taking precautions." Dean muttered under his breath, making sure he still had his knife attached to his hip before squatting down and picking all of the complex locks with ease.

When he finally unlocked the fucker and slammed the door open, Dean grabbed his knife, expecting to see a hoard of demons or hellhounds or _something _equally as dangerous and evil—

He expected a lot of things to be on the other side, but caged chimpanzees in _make-up_ wasn't one of them.

"Cas..." Dean said in shock and uncertainty, but the angel had already left his side. By the time Dean snapped himself out of his daze, Castiel was safely unlocking each primate with tenderness and care, grunting at it in some form of monkey language before pressing a finger to its furry head. In that second, the chimp was cleared of its demeaning cosmetics and disappeared.

"Where'd you send them?" Dean asked after the last primate had vanished.

"The Amazon Rainforest," Castiel answered with an offhanded shrug, "They're back with their families now." He then adorned a soft smile, practically _glowing _with pride, "I have completed this mission."

Dean scoffed, the wide grin playing on his lips threatening to crack his face in half, "You're utterly _ridiculous, _you know that?"

Cas just stared at him, tilting his head at him in bewilderment, "Is that an insult?"

"Not at all, Sweetheart." Dean replied lowly, dragging the angel in and pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite (you don't necessarily have to do it in that order though).**_


	29. Be Mine

**Day 29:** Doing Something Sweet

**Title:** Be Mine

**Summary:** Dean turns into a stuttering wreck when it comes to expressing his feelings. So when Valentine's Day comes up, he knows he's screwed...(Cas doesn't make it any easier for him either).

**Notes:** Second to last day! Can you believe it? Because I sure can't.

* * *

Castiel had always known Dean Winchester was not one to be particularly expressive with his feelings. He preferred to keep them bottled up, sealed away in the deepest part of his subconscious and kept away from others at all costs. Hell, it had taken the hunter _four years_ to pluck up the courage to sputter out an awkward, nervous love confession to the angel he'd been in love with ever since he gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition.

So when he opened the door of their bedroom in the bunker (yes, it was now known as _their_ room instead of Dean's since Cas spent more time in there than anywhere else) and found a flustered Dean with a heart shaped box clutched in one hand and a red, cheap-looking card fisted in the other.

"Dean?" Cas said in puzzlement, cocking his head in a questioning manner and making the hunter's face turn even redder (if that was even possible...).

"It's February the fourteenth, and Sam wouldn't get off my back if I didn't get you anything, and I only had ten bucks on me when we were at the store, and I didn't want to get you a stuffed animal because you're not a chick, so I got you chocolate even though I don't know if you like it, but if you don't, I'll just eat it for you, and I know I'm just rambling, but I just wanted to say happyvalentine'sdayCasIloveyou." Dean puked all the words out in only two breaths before shoving the two foreign objects into the angel's hands. Cas studied the crinkled card long and hard before carefully opening it, surprised to see two simple words inside:

_Be Mine._

"Dean, I don't understand..." Cas said with a crinkled brow, glancing up only to find Dean pointedly looking anywhere but him, "I already am yours. I always have been."

At his truthful declaration, Dean tried to cover up his face-splitting grin by faking a cough, looking away sheepishly as he fought to settle his face back into his usual mastered expression.

But just as Dean finally calmed down enough to give him a small smirk, Cas leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, rendering the ever cool and smooth-talking Dean Winchester back into a sputtering mess.

(Cas might or might not have done this on purpose...).

* * *

**_Author's Note: Review, follow, favorite._**


	30. It's More Fun This Way

**Day 30:** Doing Something Hot

**Title:** It's More Fun This Way

**Summary:** Dean and Cas get stuck in the middle of nowhere under extreme hot temperature. Naturally, there was only one person to blame for this stereotypical porno set-up...

**Notes:** So this is a little late! So sorry about that (But it's only an hour or so late, so better late than never, right?). I didn't really know where I wanted to go with this chapter (naturally, I wussied out and wrote a light, comical approach to this prompt), and this sort of happened. Includes Sabriel if you want to interpret it as that but could be considered just simply platonic.

* * *

_"Shit!"_ Dean exclaimed in frustration, slamming the hood of the Impala shut with barely contained fury.

"Is something wrong, Dean?" The angel asked with a curious tilt of his head. If it were under any other circumstance, Dean would think the action was cute.

"No, everything's just plum dandy, Cas," The hunter spat sarcastically with a sour smile, "We're just lost in the middle of fucking _nowhere_ with _no_ car to drive the hell out of here and _no_ cell service to call Sam for help."

...Unfortunately, this was not under any other circumstance.

"Your cross tone betrays your hopeful words." Castiel stated, thoroughly puzzled because even though he'd been alive since the dawn of time, the ever knowledgeable, almighty angel _still_ couldn't grasp the art of sarcasm.

Dean glanced over at him and sighed, scrubbing a hand through his damp, sweat-soaked hair, "I'm sorry, Cas. I just...don't understand how this could happen." And wasn't that the truth? Last time he checked (which was _literally_ only last week when they had spent the weekend at Bobby's and Dean chose to spend that downtime inspecting his baby), the Impala was in mint condition. He'd checked the oil, filled it with gas, took a thorough look under the hood, replaced the spark plugs...

His baby shouldn't have died _period_. Much less do it in the middle of a deserted road with the hot rays of the sun growing only more harsh and brutal by the minute. Something fishy was going on here...well, that, or God was just bored and decided to fuck with him to pass the time (and since the world was going to hell down here with the whole Apocalypse fiasco in full swing, there was a high possibility it was the latter).

"You sure you can't just zap us out of here?" Dean pressed Castiel because even though he wasn't much of a fan of angel-travel, it sure sounded appealing with the threat of heat-stroke literally looming over his head.

Cas gave him a pissy look, "Dean, in the past hour, I have tried over a dozen times. I believe that is enough attempts to be quite sure I can't just 'zap us out of here.'"

"Well okay, _Sass_tiel. Excuse me for asking an innocent question." Dean shot back, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. It was a fucking _furnace_ out here, and Dean was practically drowning in his own perspiration. Hell, it was so hot, even the angel was starting to acquire a sheen of sweat on his borrowed skin.

"Okay, I gotta reduce some layers." Dean declared in exasperation, peeling his wet, sticky teeshirt off his too-hot skin and sighing at the minor relief his action brought.

Dean tilted his head upward to catch the faint breeze and pretended not to notice Castiel's intense gaze locked on his broad chest and sculpted muscles.

"This is so much better," Dean said with a sigh, "You should try it, Cas. That suit must be suffocating."

He shot a sideways glance over to see the angel shift his footing slightly, admitting hesitantly, "It is very...uncomfortable."

"C'mon then, don't be a blushing Virgin Mary." Dean encouraged teasingly, trying to quell the sudden wave of a totally _other_ kind of heat at the thought of Cas finally showing some skin for once.

With an exasperated eye roll, Castiel reluctantly shed his trench coat and suit jacket. Careful fingers unfastened the buttons of his white shirt, the process slow and rhythmic.

Dean watched with a leering gaze, leaning on the Impala's hold and grinning, "Who knew you'd be such a good strip tease, Cas?"

The angel responded with a dirty glare, but he didn't halt his motions. Eventually, he finally ridded himself of the white dress shirt and then proceeded to take off his undershirt, finally baring his naked torso for all (meaning _Dean,_ much to the hunter's hidden pleasure) to see.

"Okay," Dean said with a nod before adding in his most serious, rational voice, "Now the pants."

Castiel rolled his eyes, replying flatly, "Dean, if you wish to get me naked, you could at least be straightforward about it."

Dean laughed so hard, his cheeks were not only wet with sweat but tears.

"I'm surprised," Gabriel told Sam as they watched the two as invisible spectators, "I'd expected them to already be bumping uglies with each other by now."

"Told you so," Sam said with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest, "You need a more direct approach."

"What, like setting Dean's pants on fire?" Gabriel suggested with an interested, wicked grin, his face lighting up at the idea.

"I was thinking maybe confront them about their gayness for each other instead of putting them in these ridiculous situations and watching in frustration as they continue to dance around their feelings." Sam retorted, cocking an eyebrow.

"Nah," Gabriel refused with a shake of his head, "It's more fun this way."

Sam just shrugged because he could only agree.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Thank you for putting up with my short, sometimes disappointing oneshots for the last month. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading these. **_


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